Not If You Paid Me
by Blue Lily96
Summary: Jace Wayland is in love with Isabelle Lightwood. Clary Fray is in love with Simon Lewis. What happens when Jace comes up with a plan to get the girl of his dreams? Chaos, that's what! R&R. Hope you enjoy. T because I'm paranoid
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! This will be a very short fic, about three to four chapters and, I'm warning you know, caould become incredibly cheesy! I'm sorry if it does, but I was in a mood when I wrote this (consequently right after watching 10 Things I hate About You) and came up with it. Hope you enjoy :)_

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments Series.**

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><p>JPOV<p>

She was so beautiful. From the glossy hair that cascaded down her back in raven black waves to the smooth, tanned curves of her legs, she was perfection.

Yes, she was Isabelle Lightwood. Best friend of five years. And completely oblivious to the intense feelings of affection that I, Jace Wayland, harboured.

Not that I could blame her of course. I was exceptionally good at hiding my feelings, and save for the occasional slip of control had never laid hint to my feelings for her.

Why? Honestly, I'd rather not say.

A voice nearby snapped me to attention and I realised I had been staring at her blankly. Isabelle smirked at me and punched my shoulder.

'You've really got to stop doing that, Wayland,' she said.

I smirked lazily at her, ignoring the spike of adrenalin the sound of her voice always caused.

'What can I say? It's like whenever I hear your voice, my brain immediately shuts off.'

LIE!

Izzy narrowed her eyes at me, looking mischievous.

'You want a reason to go to your happy place, Jace? I'll give you a reason to go to your happy place.'

My smirk only widened and I raised my brows.

'Oh, I am so afraid,' I said mockingly.

'You should be,' Izzy agreed, flipping her hair over her shoulder and, grabbing my car keys from my unsuspecting hands, danced nimbly out of reach.

We were in the high school's parking lot. It was nearly deserted, with only two or three cars remaining.

I lurched after her but it was too late, Izzy had already opened the driver's door and leapt inside of the car. My car. The car that I had remade from the hunk of junk my dad had brought in one day. It was an old 1966 Mustang that I had brought back to life.

That car was a thing of beauty. It was _my_ thing of beauty.

And now Isabelle goddamn Lightwood was going to drive it.

I ran to the car door and threw it open, ready to drag her out if need be, only to find she had already belted herself in.

'No,' I said, holding the door wide open.

Isabelle grinned at me and placed her hands firmly on the wheel.

'Yes,' she replied. I knelt on the bitumen beside her, arm braced on the door.

'Isabelle,' I said lowly, 'this car is like my child. If you hurt it, I will, without a second thought, kill you. And that will not make either of us happy. Well,' I added as an after thought, 'It actually probably would make me feel very happy, but I'm not sure you would be all together pleased.'

Izzy rolled her eyes and jerked her head in the direction of the passenger seat.

'Get in the car Jace, or I'll make you walk home.'

'It's my car!' I exclaimed standing up again. 'No way are you driving it!'

'Want to bet?' She grinned wickedly and stuck the keys in the ignition. My car rumbled to life and then she was reversing out if the parking space, pulling the door shut as she went.

'Get in the car, Jace!' She shouted from the window, still with that wicked grin. I had to admit, having her trying to drive away in my car was kind of hot.

I sighed quietly to myself and began to make my way grudgingly to the passenger's side when something small and compact smacked into the back of my head.

I spun around, scowling, to meet a pair of the greenest eyes I had ever seen. The eyes belonged to a familiar looking girl. She was short, with fair skin and brilliantly red hair that flew around her head in rebellious curls, refusing to be tamed by the half-hearted bun.

Right now, the girl was just a few feet from me, her hands covering her mouth. Her name danced at the edge of my memory, slipping just out of reach.

'Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. Are you ok?' I didn't get a chance to answer before she yelled over her shoulder to a boy with dorky looking glasses and a crappy band shirt. 'Simon, you idiot, what'd you do that for?'

She turned back to me, apology written across her features. I shrugged slightly and gave her my signature smirk that sent girls falling at my feet.

To my surprise, Clary didn't even react. Barely a blush graced her cheeks as she stared at me, then bent down, picking up the object that had whacked me in the head. Peering closer, I realized it was a wallet.

'It's all right. You're just lucky it didn't hit me in the face. You'd have a mob of angry girls chasing you if you messed up something this pretty.' I gestured at my face. The redhead narrowed her eyes at me, seemingly unimpressed. God, what was her name?

'Well, good to see the wallet didn't damage your ego any.'

I shrugged. 'When you're this amazing, a large ego is just part of the deal.'

The girl shook her head in disbelief. When I looked at her, all I saw was irritation. It was...intriguing. The only other girl that ever looked at me like that was Isabelle.

Just then, Izzy's voice sounded from the car behind us.

'Jace Wayland, stop arsing off to that poor girl and get in the goddamn car!'

The "poor girl" in question glanced behind me at Isabelle, smirked, then turned from me without another word, walking over to where the nerdy boy waited by a van that resembled a rotting banana.

I turned away, jogging to where Isabelle still waited. When I got in, she smirked knowingly.

'Got your happy place ready Jace?' She asked innocently before tearing out of the parking lot, the car fishtailing as she accelerated.

Yeah, she was right. I really did need that happy place right now.

'So,' Isabelle began casually, breaking into my happy place. I sat tense in my seat, one hand gripping the dashboard, the other gripping my seat belt.

'So?' I repeated, my hands tightening their grip as she sped through a yellow light.

'I swear to god if you get me a speeding ticket, Lightwood, I won't hesitate to replace every piece of your wardrobe with T-shirts and jeans,' I growled threateningly. Isabelle only laughed, but she did slow down a little.

'So,' Isabelle continued as if nothing had happened, 'The girl you were terrorizing before -'

'Me? She was the one who threw her wallet at me.'

'No, it was her friend. Simon, I believe. He's kind of cute...' she faded off as a thoughtful look rearranged her features. I felt the familiar tug in my chest. If there was one thing that never got better, it was having to watch her flit from boyfriend to boyfriend.

I covered my discomfort easily.

'Going after the nerd-boy, Iz?' I mocked her as we neared her house. An old church that her mother, Maryse had renovated. 'I didn't think they were your style.'

Isabelle flashed me a look, and ignoring my shout of "eyes on the road" said,

'He's nice. In my science class.'

I assumed a knowing look and patted her shoulder patronizingly.

'I see,' I said, 'Need someone to do your homework for you, Iz?'

'Shut up,' she yelled, letting go of the wheel with one hand to punch me blindly in the shoulder. I laughed. We both knew it wasn't true. Isabelle was highly intelligent.

'He looked like a rat,' I teased. 'Rat-boy. Fitting, I think.'

Isabelle smirked then, airtight flashing through her eyes.

'Jealous, Lightwood?' she asked mockingly but I was silent.

_Yes_, I wanted scream._ I'm so jealous I could tear apart every guy that so much as looked at you!_

'Listen, Izzy,' I began and then broke off as a thought emerged from my sentimental feelings. 'Who was that girl who threw the wallet at me?' I asked instead. Isabelle snorted.

'I knew it couldn't be too long before you're split with Kaelue got you hungry for more,' she teased, pulling up into her drive way. She killed the engine and turned to me.

'Getting lonely Jace?'

I rolled my eyes.

'Answer the question, Isabelle.'

She smirked. 'I'm surprised you didn't know her already. She's in your English class. Her name's Clarissa. Goes by Clary though.'

Clary. That was it. I did know her. I had noticed her sitting up the front of the class in the corner, she was quiet, always hanging with Rat-Boy.

Isabelle grinned at me and hopped from the car.

'Thanks for letting me drive, Wayland,' she called as she made her way back up to her house. I watched her go, a plan forming in my mind as she went.

Jealous. Isabelle didn't know how I felt about her but maybe, just maybe, I could make her jealous.

And Clarissa-goes-by-Clary was exactly the way to go about it.

CPOV

My run in with the notorious Jace Wayland had left me in a bad mood. Simon grinned at my stormy expression as I stomped up to him, jumping into the passenger side of his rotting banana van, wincing as a stray spring that poked through the upholstery stabbed me in the butt. I wish I could complain but Simon's crappy van was a car. Something that I did not have, and therefore had to bum rides off of him in order to avoid the bus. Not because I'm a snob or anything, but because those things, or rather the people inside, were bloody terrifying.

Simon chuckled lowly and hopped into the driver's seat.

I immediately got into rant mode.

'That guy thinks he is freaking god's gift to women! How could somebody have a head that big and still succeed in getting through the school doors in the morning? The guy is infuriating.'

Simon laugh again, pulling out of the parking lot just as Jace's, admittedly, very nice Mustang fishtailed out of there.

'I know, I know. But he's got the entire female population eating from the palm of his hand. Some dudes too,' Simon added as an afterthought.

'Not the entire female population,' I corrected, gazing at my best friend of five years as he drove. Consequently the boy I had been in love with for about four years and 364 days. 'I wouldn't go out with him if he paid me.'

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><p><em>I know I should be working on my other fics but my laptop has cacked itself and so I have to wait until it is fixed to get all the documents and stuff off of it. I will (hopefully) update on my other stroies for now but, until then, bear with me :)<em>

_Review? Please? _

_Blue :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_hahaa, so yes, I updated as soon as possible in order to keep anyone from screaming (**Purple Halo **:P) Hahaha, but yes, thank you to everyone so far who has reviewd or added this story to their favourites/alerts list._

_Here is the second chapter, hopefully it's ok. A bit filler-y but the good stuff will be coming soon :)_

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments series...*sad face***

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><p>JPOV<p>

The plan was flawless. All I had to do was turn on the charm, ask the redhead out, and make Isabelle jealous. No sweat. I'd be laughing in no time.

This kind of thinking lasted right up until English, the last lesson of the day and instead of taking my usual seat up the back, I slipped into the seat next to Clary, who was scribbling absently all over the cover of her book. Peering over her shoulder, I saw titles of movies, funny quotes and intricate little drawings.

'I hate to see what the teacher will do to you when you hand in your book.' I drawled, smirking when she jumped. When her greens eyes landed on me, they narrowed to a glare.

'If only I cared,' she muttered.

I smirked again but didn't say anything, waiting for her to ask.

'What do you want?' she demanded after a lengthy pause. I could almost see her discomfort coming off of her in waves.

My smirk widened.

'I want to talk to you, after class.'

Her brows furrowed.

'Uh, why?'

I stood up from the chair, feeling smug as her frown deepened.

'You'll see,' I said and sauntered back to my usual seat, Clary's green gaze following me the entire way.

O.o

CPOV

All through English, I debated whether or not to meet Jace after class. I didn't like him, that was for sure but I _did_ want to know why on earth he wanted to talk to me. Yesterday, I hadn't even thought he knew my name. Not to mention the fact that, quite frankly, I despised him.

That might seem a bit unfair considering I had barely even spoken to the boy before but from what I had witnessed, the guy was a complete arsewipe.

The bell rang, and I still hadn't made my decision. I was still packing up my things, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the students hurrying to get out of the classroom when two calloused hands were suddenly pressed against the surface of my desk, fingers splayed.

I looked up into Jace Wayland's smirking face and couldn't help but scowl.

'What did you want tell me?' I asked with a sigh, knowing that Simon would be waiting for me. I shoved aside the butterflies that began when I thought about him.

'Ask you, actually,' Jace corrected, grabbing my bag from my hands and walking to the classroom door.

'Hey!' I shouted scrambling after him. Jace laughed and continued down the now very nearly deserted hallways, swinging my bag casually as he went. Growling under my breath, I took a swipe for my bag, only to have him jerk it just out of reach. I huffed.

'What do you _want_ Jace?' I demanded in exasperation. He didn't stop walking, that smug expression still on his angelic face. And yes, I did just refer to Jace Wayland as angelic. But can you blame me? I might not like the guy, but I am a girl and I do notice when a boy is good-looking. And was Jace good looking.

'Clary,' he looked at me through slightly hooded eyes, his gold irises bright. 'I was wondering, would you like to go out with me?'

The shock of those words falling from his mouth stopped me in my tracks.

Did Jace Wayland just ask me out?

O.o

JPOV

It took me few moments to realise that Clary had stopped walking. By the time I did, she was already a few paces behind me. Swinging around to face her, I couldn't help but smirk at her expression: her mouth hung agape, green eyes wide. For a moment, I was worried that she actually did like me, and that would throw the plan out completely; the whole reason I chose Clary for the plan was because she wouldn't fall for me. I mean, I might get around, but I wasn't a player. In fact, I had it on good authority that if I ever treated a woman with anything less than respect (or as much respect that I ever showed anyone) Isabelle would castrate me in my sleep.

These worries were dispelled in an instant by Clary's look of shock morphing into one of disdainful disbelief.

'Are messing with me?' She demanded angrily. 'Is this some kind of joke?'

Her words surprised me but I shrugged.

'Is that a yes or a no?'

'It's a no!' she exclaimed and I felt worried for a moment again. It seemed she saw and her expression softened slightly. 'Uh, sorry. But...you're not my, um, type.'

I smirked at that. No girl had ever said that to me before. Yep, Clary was definitely the girl for this plan.

I took a step closer to her, so we were only a few inches apart. I lowered my voice, hooded my eyelids.

'Are you sure?' I asked her, reaching out a hand and lightly brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. 'I could change your mind for you.' then I leaned down, my lips just brushing her ear as I spoke, 'After all, I'm irresistible.'

This would either make or break the plan. If she caved, it would be bad. If she hated me even more, then I could inform her of the plan and everything would be swell.

Turns out, the latter was correct because not a moment later, Clary had wrenched herself away from me, looking furious.

'The answer is no, Jace Wayland, and I assure you it will be no for a very long time.'

I grinned; I couldn't help myself. It was the entirely wrong thing to do. Clary flushed an angry red, her green eyes blazing with indignation. She lunged forward, wrenching her bag from me and slung it over her shoulder.

'Goodbye, Jace Wayland.' She turned on her heel and stormed down the hall, in the complete opposite direction to the exit.

Sighing, worried once again that I had blown it, I shouted for her to wait. When she didn't stop, I groaned and sprinted after her, surpassing her easily and swung around to grasp her shoulders, stopping her.

'Let go of me,' she growled, glaring up at me.

'Nope,' I said pleasantly. If it was possible, her glare intensified, giving Isabelle a run for her money.

'Jace -' she began furiously but I cut her off by placing a hand over mouth. She mumbled angrily against my mouth, and a sudden, cunning expression flashed through her eyes. Dear god, I knew that look.

'You bite me,' I warned, 'and I'll steal you bag again and put somewhere you won't find it, Shortstuff.'

Clary stiffened at the insulting nickname, but it seemed she didn't doubt me.

'Look, Clary,' I said, trying to make my tone calm and reasonable. 'I need someone to help me and you're the only one who can.'

I felt and saw her surprise as her coppery eyebrows rose. Knowing I had caught her interest, I let go of her, taking a step back.

Clary regarded me warily, but she was definitely curious.

'What could I possibly help you with?'

I took a breath, suddenly nervous. I shoved it aside. Nerves weren't any help to me at the moment.

'I need you to go out with me - hear me out ok!' I said when I saw her eyes flash and her mouth open. She closed it with a snap.

'It's for...personal reasons but you wouldn't be doing it for nothing. I'd pay you, if you want me to.'

Clary's jaw dropped open, and she stared at me in disbelief for a few moments before giving a harsh laugh.

'I don't know which is more ridiculous: that you think I'll go out with you because you pay me or that you want to pay me to go out with you.'

I sighed and rubbed a hand over my eyes. I knew that any sarcastic remarks would make this whole plan blow up in my face, but boy was this girl making it difficult.

'Clary - it's...complicated.'

The redhead just crossed her arms defiantly.

'Then un-complicate because I am this close -' she indicated a tiny space between her index finger and thumb '- to bitch-slapping you and getting the hell out of here. So if you please, continue, and try and refrain from insulting me any further.'

I sighed. This was going to be awkward, and most probably humiliating, but I needed this plan to succeed. I took a breath.

'Well, I need you to help me to make...I need to make a friend of mine jealous.'

Clary's eyebrows rose almost to her hairline and her mouth twitched, like she was trying not to laugh. Yes, this was definitely going to be humiliating.

'Ok,' she said slowly, staring at me like I had gone mad. 'You want me to help you make another girl jealous?'

'Exactly. You catch on quick,' I said patronizingly. Clary's eyes narrowed.

'Why? I mean, why me?'

'Because you hate me,' I said, as if it were obvious. Which, really, it was. 'And that means you won't...feel anything for me, you know, if the plan succeeds.'

Clary was silent, staring at me with her ridiculously green eyes.

Finally she spoke, still in that same, disdainful tone of before.

'Why don't you just ask the girl out? Wouldn't that be easier?'

I smirked, but her words struck a nerve. Of course just asking her out would be easier. But - I had to make sure Izzy felt the same way. Call me a coward if you want but to be best friends with someone for so long, it was scary to think of tainting it with unrequited love.

I didn't answer, suddenly unsure of what to say. When she realized I wasn't going to speak, she asked another question.

'Who is it? That you want to make jealous?'

My jaw clenched. I knew I had to answer this one, but it was still humiliating to admit it to an almost stranger.

'Isabelle Lightwood.'

Clary's eyes hardened suddenly.

'Alright Jace, this is a very important question,' she said, her words clipped. 'I know Isabelle is your good friend, but do you want to make her jealous because you want to get into her pants, or do you actually love her?'

I wasn't sure which surprised me more - Clary's question or the fierce expression on her face. I realized then that if I didn't tell her the absolute truth, I could kiss my plan goodbye. Swallowing my pride and natural snarkiness, I answered Clary as earnestly as I could.

'Clary, I love her. For five goddamn years I've loved that girl, and she doesn't know. I - I really need your help with this.'

Clary suddenly stepped very close to me, her green eyes flitting between mine, searching them intently. When she pulled back, her eyes had softened.

'Alright,' she said, her voice soft. 'I'll do it.'

She grabbed my hand, and, pulling a pen from her pocket, scribbled a number across it.

'This is my mobile. Call me tonight or something and we can figure the rest of this out.'

Then she turned away and hurried back down the empty corridor, her red hair flying out behind her.

And all I could feel was an intense relief because maybe, Isabelle Lightwood might just begin to notice me.

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><p>.<em>..meh. I didn't really like the last line but...what'd you guys think? I know Jace was quite OOC in this chapter but I couldn't help it :_

_Reviews = awesomesauce :P_

_Blue._


	3. Chapter 3

_Alrighty, so this one took a little longer but...well there you go :P It's longer than the first two, and is still a filler for the next chpter but after reading through your reviews and readig through what I've put up so far, I realised things were a little confusing. One being the fact that Clary accepted Jace after it seemed she would be happy to string him up by his innards, so I've hopefully cleared that up here. Hopefully._

_NOTE: This **is** a Jace and Clary story, I promise, and maybe, perhaps, things will get a little...fluffy? between them. But you will just have to wait and see :P_

_Also, it seems I lied. I didn't mean to, but I did. As it turns out, this story will porbably be more than four chapters. Seven, maybe ten? I'm not sure but that's a rough guesstimate._

**DISCLAIMER: Cassandra Clare owns the mortal instruments Series. Not me.**

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><p>The entire way home, I felt like banging my head against a wall. What the hell was I thinking, agreeing to go out with Jace I'm-So-Amazing Wayland? Oh, that's right, I was thinking 'this boy is being completely sincere, and he's in love with his best friend'.<p>

Just like me.

And maybe I thought if I could make Isabelle Lightwood crazy-jealous for Jace, then maybe Jace could make Simon crazy-jealous for me.

Of course, as soon as I had left the school building, I had cursed myself as a coward. What a stupid thing to do. If I love Simon, all I have to do is tell him. So why don't I?

'Clary!'

Simon's insistent tone broke through my reverie and I snapped to attention, grabbing my forehead away from the rattling window. I rubbed my forehead; surprised I didn't move away sooner. Simon was turning toward his house, the van rumbling to a stop.

'What?' I asked, frowning slightly. Simon just laughed and jumped from the van. And that was when I remembered. I was staying with Simon all afternoon, and most probably deep into the night.

There was an anime film marathon on, and there was no way we were going to miss it. And I had told Jace to call me tonight.

Crap.

Sighing, I followed Simon inside, the weight of what I agreed to heavy on my shoulders. I just didn't see how it was going to work.

O.o

The trilling ringtone of my mobile interrupted Howl's Moving Castle, just when Howl realizes he is so totally in love with Sophie. Sighing, I checked the caller ID - and felt rocks settle in my stomach. Unidentified caller.

The phone continued trill until Simon snapped,

'Hurry up Fray, I'm missing the movie!'

I pressed the phone against my ear.

'Hello?' I said warily. When the person on the other end of the line spoke, I felt the rocks in my stomach turn into somersaulting elephants.

'Hello? Clary, it's Jace.'

I sighed again and stood up, waving at Simon as I walked from the dark lounge-room littered with lolly wrappers and empty chip packets and locked myself in the bathroom.

'Yeah, I know,' I said, trying to keep the reluctance from my tone. I closed the lid of the toilet and sat down, resting my forehead in my hand.

'Look, Jace, I can't talk just now. I'm at Simon's house.'

'You told me to call you tonight. So I did. And now you can't talk? To _me_? Lady, you have got to get your priorities straightened out.'

I got up from the toilet and began banging my head against the doorframe.

'Shut up,' I muttered. 'I'm sorry; I just completely forgot I was coming here tonight. Can we discuss tomorrow?'

There was a burst of static in my ear as Jace sighed.

'Come over to my house tomorrow,' Jace said eventually. 'Since you blew me off today.'

'I can't just come over to your house!' I exclaimed.

'Why not?' Jace demanded.

'Be-because you're a boy!' I spluttered.

When Jace spoke next, I could imagine his raised brow and the smirk that would be taking up his face.

'That's right, Clarissa,' Jace said slowly, as if he were talking to a three year old. 'And you are a girl. The sky is blue. The grass is green. Have I missed anything?'

'You're an arse,' I muttered, scowling at the door.

'I do have a very nice arse, thank you for noticing.'

I rolled my eyes but let it slide, silently admitting that I really had left that opportunity open.

'As if my mother would just let me go over to some boy's house. She's never even heard of you before.'

That, of course, was a lie. Just yesterday, after ranting off to Simon, I did the same thing to my mother. So what? I had some steam to let off, and the guy had pissed me off.

'Make something up then,' Jace said impatiently. 'Just - make sure you can come.'

And then he hung up. The goddamn bastard hung up on me! Practically growling, I pressed recent calls and rang the blonde haired asshat back.

He picked up on the third ring, amusement clear in his tone.

'Miss the sound of my voice already?' he drawled.

I scowled and imagined reaching through the telephone had strangling him. The thought made me feel mildly better. Funny, I'd never really thought of myself as a violent person.

'Not quite,' I replied. 'In your hurry to be all superior and commanding, you forgot the most important detail.'

'Oh, and what's that?'

'I'm not a goddamn psychic, you arse! I don't even know where you live!'

Silence. And then, he laughed. I nearly crushed the phone between my hands, because it was then that I realized he had done it on purpose, probably to make sure I was actually going to be part of his ridiculous plan. The cunning bastard.

'Got a pen handy?' he asked cheerfully. I growled yes and scrawled his address on the palm of my hand, half hoping it would rub off by tomorrow.

'I'll see you after school then, Lover,' he said and hung up before I could say anything in reply.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and hit my head against the wall a couple more times.

God, I was so screwed.

O.o

'You want to do _what_?' my mother stood in the middle of the kitchen, a glass of water frozen halfway to her lips. She stared at me like I'd told her I wanted to take up cross-dressing in Paris. The thought made me wonder if she would prefer that to what I was actually asking.

'But - you said, and I quote, "Jace Wayland is the cockiest, asshattyiest jerk-off I had ever had the misfortune to meet".'

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

'I did say that, and it still stands. But this English assignment is really important and we got paired together for it,' the lie came relatively easily, considering there was an English assignment coming up and we would have to pair up. Eventually.

Jocelyn still looked doubtful.

'Please, mum? It's really important. If you want you can come meet his parents or something.'

It took an incredibly long time for me to convince my mother to let me go to Jace's house, but convince her I did.

Jace Wayland's house was a tall two-story apartment building. His unit was at the top, and, it seemed, was the nicest. Go figure. I pressed the buzzer and after a moment, a female voice answered.

'Hello?'

I shifted on my feet, uncomfortable with my mother leering over my shoulder the way she was.

'Uh, hi. I'm Clary Fray. A...friend of Jace's. He invited me over.'

There was a pause and then the lady said,

'Oh, of course, come right up.'

We bounded up the stairs, coming to a stop outside Jace's door. Just as I was about to knock, the door swung open to reveal Jace himself, blonde hair tousled, smirk still firmly in place. He hadn't spoken to me at school that day, and I hadn't tried to speak to him, sending him instead a text telling the approximate time of my arrival and our alibi.

'Clary,' he said. 'Come in.'

I stepped aside to reveal my mother and I could have sworn he paled, just a little.

'You must be Clary's mother,' Jace said smoothly, opening the door wider to allow us both through.

'Jocelyn,' my mum said, nodding slightly in Jace's direction. 'I was just wondering if I could have a word with your mother?'

'Oh,' Jace said, and his eyes tightened a little, his jaw clenching. 'I'm sorry, my Dad isn't here at the moment but if you like, you can come in and speak to Dorothea if you like. She's our maid and she's definitely an adult.'

I had felt my mother stiffen when Jace said his father wasn't home, but felt her relax slightly when he told her of the present adult.

Jace led us through the small entry hall and into a wide, open windowed lounge-room with floating wood floors and a sexy flat-screen TV.

There was an elderly lady dusting the coffee table. She was short, but still taller than me and she wore a purple turban, with wisps of grey hair curling beneath the material. Her clothes were all different shades of purple and I noticed she was barefoot. The lady straightened and smiled at us. There was a large gap between her two front teeth.

'Clary, Jocelyn, this is Dorothea,' Jace said, sounding bored. I smiled at the lady, nodding hello. She grinned back.

'Cool, so, Clary and I will go and start on the assignment then.'

Jace grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the room. I turned slightly and grinned at my mum, waving. She waved back, already caught up in deep conversation with Dorothea.

Jace pulled me through a door, a kitchen, and half down a hallway before he let go of my arm. We stood outside a plain white door. I glanced at him expectantly.

Reaching out he opened the door and I stepped through, into an almost monk-like room. The bed was made, a plain blue cover stretched tight over the top. The only other furniture was a beautiful dark ebony bookshelf/desk stacked neatly with a few books and CDs and a laptop, a set of drawers and next to the bed was a bedside table, with a lamp and a single photograph.

I nodded, feeling Jace enter the room behind me.

'Minimalist. I like it.'

'I think that's the first time you've paid me a compliment since we've met,' Jace mused, throwing himself onto the bed with a huff.

'Yeah, well it's not like you deserve it,' I sniffed, moving to sit on the swivel chair at his desk. I recalled yesterday when he had insulted me on my height, or lack there of.

'I mean, "Shortstuff"? Really? That's all you could come up with?'

'I was pressured for time,' he muttered, staring up at his ceiling. I rolled my eyes, spinning on the swivel chair.

'All right,' I sighed after a few moments of silence. 'Why don't you explain to me exactly what exactly this plan of yours is?'

Slowly, Jace sat up, his gold eyes suddenly bright.

'It's really quite simple,' he said, a hint of mockery in his tone; I was beginning to think it never left. 'We pretend to go out, and make Isabelle jealous.'

I frowned, finding the plan flawed.

'Right,' I said slowly. 'Jace, I hate to tell you this, but you've been out with a ton of girls. I really don't think going out with me of all people is going to make her green with envy.'

'No, this would be different,' He said, leaning forward. 'We have to pretend to be in love. Or something like it. So that she believes it.'

I blanched. He wanted me to pretend to be in love with him? I didn't think I could do that. Sure, going out would be fine but...love?

'Jace...I don't think that's a good idea.'

He scowled.

'Why not?' He demanded.

'Well, for one, if she does get jealous, and you're "madly in love" with me, don't you think she'll find it strange if you immediately break it off with me?'

Jace waved a hand dismissively in my direction. Either he'd already thought of this, or it didn't bother him.

'Don't worry your little head about it.'

I scowled at his patronizing tone, but footsteps coming down the hall distracted me. Getting swiftly to my feet, I grabbed my bag from where I had dumped it by the door, and pulled out my English book and pencil case, spreading it out on the floor. Jace seemed to realise what I was doing because he picked his laptop up from the desk and stretched out opposite me, just as the door creaked open and Jocelyn popped her head around.

Her suspicious expression changed into one of satisfaction when she saw that we were supposedly working.

'All right, Clary, I'm going to head off. Call me when you want to come home. Nice to meet you Jace.'

And then she was gone and we were safe.

I sighed and began doodling on a page in my book until I felt the weight of Jace's eyes on ne.

Looking up, I said, rather rudely, 'What?'

'Why'd you bring your mum here?'

I snorted and rolled my eyes.

'You say that like I wanted her to come. It was the only way I could convince her to let me come over. She wanted to make sure you weren't going to compromise my virtue.'

Jace raised an eyebrow, obviously amused.

'She actually said that?'

'In so many words. That, and I don't like you.'

'Good, because if you did, you would totally screw up my plan.'

I chuckled, shaking my head in disbelief. The boy truly thought his ridiculous plan was going to work. And I was part of it. Somebody kill me.

'Alright,' Jace said, suddenly business like. He sat back against his bed, long, jean-clad legs stretching out past me. 'Back onto the plan. I figure we go public as a "couple" on Monday, that gives us the weekend to be all lovey or whatever.'

Jace scrunched up his nose in a way that I am not ashamed to admit was incredibly attractive.

I was mildly amused at his reaction though, to think he would look like a ten-year-old talking about cooties when he had, had a butt load of girlfriends was ironic.

'Ok,' I said. 'What about dates and stuff?'

Jace shrugged. 'We'll go where people will notice us. Clubs, restaurants, anywhere public.'

This is where I got uncomfortable. Being public could mean only one thing.

Displays. Of. Affection.

And if there was one thing I didn't want, it was for Jace to be my first kiss (of course, that little bit of information is never to be repeated).

I cleared my throat, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

'What about - uh - you know.'

Jace quirked an eyebrow, his amber eyes sparking with amusement.

'Care to be a bit more specific?'

Flushing deep red, I burst out,

_'You know_. Kissing and...stuff.'

Jace grinned, obviously having enjoyed watching me squirm. He leaned forward, shifting his legs so that he could lean right into my space, his nose almost touching mine. I forced myself not to flinch back, choosing instead to fix him with an icy glare.

'Do you want me to kiss you?' he asked, his voice low and husky, his breath fanning over my cheeks. He leaned in even further, his lips mere centimeters from mine. 'I can, if you want me to.'

He was very close, so close I could feel the warmth of him through the minuscule distance between us and for a moment, I was frozen.

And then I reached up and slapped the cocky bastard upside the head. He pulled away from me, laughing loudly.

'We're not fake-dating yet, Jace Wayland,' I said, my traitorous blush still colouring my cheeks.

Jace grinned and settled back against the bed, looking as if he hadn't just tried to seduce me and I hadn't smacked him.

'To answer your question, yes, we will have to "kiss and stuff". But nothing major. Believe me, you're not the only one who doesn't want my tongue down your throat.'

I grimaced at the mental image his words produced.

'You're disgusting.'

He shrugged, nonchalant.

'It's the truth.'

I dropped my forehead into my hands, the full weight of what I had agreed to punching me in the stomach. I was going to have be in love with Jace Wayland. I was going to have to kiss him. Not looking up, I groaned,

'Remind me again why I agreed to this?'

There was a pause and then Jace spoke, something like confusion layering his tone.

'Actually, I don't know. Why did you agree to this?'

I sighed, not looking up at him.

'I don't know. I guess what you said made me feel like there was something of a decent person inside you and I thought I could help.'

I don't admit that it was really because I knew exactly what it was like to be in love with person you weren't sure loved you back.

Jace looked skeptical for a moment, his gold eyes searching my eyes. I was afraid he would dig up the lie but in the end, he just shrugged his shoulders slightly, a hooded look in his eyes. I didn't understand it and before I could try, his face had smoothed back into the bored blankness I was used to.

'What an assumption!' he smirked. 'You doubted my wicked reputation?'

'I didn't doubt it for a second,' I replied, returning to my doodling. It was true though; Jace did have a reputation for the wicked. He may not have been a player, but he was definitely what some would call "the bad-boy" which was quite in contrast to his golden-boy looks.

'Next issue,' said Jace, moving on. 'How much?'

My head snapped up, a confused frown drawing my eyebrows together.

'What?'

'I told you yesterday you wouldn't have to do this for nothing. How much do you want me to pay you?'

Immediately, the words I had spoken to Simon yesterday rose up in my mind.

_I wouldn't go out with him if he paid me_

And here I was, going out with Jace Wayland.

But he was not going to pay me. No goddamn way.

I leapt furiously to my feet, glaring down at his surprised face with a mixture rage and contempt.

'How dare you even suggest that!' I nearly shouted. 'I'm not a freaking prostitute, Jace! You can't just buy me off. Do you have even a shred of common sense?'

Jace jumped to his feet, forcing me to crane my neck back in order to continue glaring.

He raised his hands, palms out in the universal gesture of _take it easy _and said,

'Ok, geez. No need to go all PMS on me. It was just an offer.'

I nearly slapped him right there but somehow managed to contain myself. He was a male, and all males are stupid. I should not hold that against him. But by god was he making it difficult.

'I am not going to be paid to go out with you, Jace,' I said lowly.

Jace shook his head and flopped down on his bed, expelling an exasperated breath.

'All right, fine. Whatever. Can we just get on with this?'

We tweaked what I now like to refer to as The Plan for what seemed like hours. We drew up a chart of the best places for dates and ways of keeping our dating from our respective parents. That part wasn't going to be easy, considering the fact I was going to have pretend to my peers to be madly in love with Jace, while pretend to my mother that we were simply good acquaintances. If she thought we were dating I probably wouldn't be allowed over to his house.

It's funny, I didn't realise two people could argue so much in such a limited amount of time. But Jace and I were at each other's throats every five minutes, disagreeing over that and arguing over this. By the time I called my mum to come pick me up, I had the beginnings of a migraine.

But, at least it was over. We had The Plan perfected. All we had to do now was put it into practice.

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><p><em>So there you go. Hope you guys thought it was ok. Any suggestions for what you think would be cool to happen are AmaZINg hahaha.<em>

_Reviews = Fantabuliciousness (try saying that with a mouthful of *insert obscure food of choice here*) :P_

_Blue :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello again! So, here is chapter 4. They're at school! Also, the first bits of Clary's POV go on the assumption that she is like my sister in the morning and could sleep quite happily through the zombie apocolypse ;)_

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><p>CPOV<p>

There was an insistent poking in my shoulder, pulling me halfway to consciousness. Mumbling, I rolled over in protest, burying my face deep into the fluffy recesses of my pillow.

'Claaaaaary,' a voice whispered in my ear. 'Claaaaary.'

I mumbled something unintelligible and shrugged the hand from my shoulder, trying to sleep again.

'Clary,' the voice was sharp now. 'I'm off to work. I'll ring you in half an hour to make sure...'

But I was already asleep again.

JPOV

Something like nerves flittered through my stomach as I finished brushing my teeth. But I shouldn't be nervous. I had been out with plenty of girls before; fake-dating someone would be a walk in the park. So, obviously, the heavy feeling in my stomach was not nerves, but that dodgy pizza I ate last night. Obviously.

Pulling my plain black shirt over my head, I ran a hand through my hair and left the bathroom. Dorothea was in the kitchen, eating a slice of toast. I had known Dorothea since my mum died. She was less of a maid and more like a crazy auntie, with her purple clothes and psychic tendencies. She owned a fortune telling stall downtown.

'Morning Sunshine,' she greeted me, spinning around the kitchen. 'You're looking chipper this morning.'

I rolled my eyes. Dorothea was possibly the only person alive whom I would allow to call me 'Sunshine' and 'chipper' in the same sentence. I grabbed my car keys from the bench and the strip of paper with Clary's address scrawled across the front in her loopy handwriting. I was picking her up this morning from her house.

'Bye, Dorothea,' I said, pecking her quickly on the cheek and running out the door. The heavy feeling in my stomach only increased the closer I got to my beautiful car.

Damn pizza.

CPOV

An annoying trilling sound screamed by my ear, dragging me rudely from my peaceful slumber. Scowling in annoyance, I snuggled deeper into my blankets, trying to escape the hideous sound. It stopped for a moment, and I let out a relieved sigh, my eyes still closed and sank back into unconsciousness.

What felt like only minutes later, the trilling sound began again, coupled this time by a distant banging. Groaning, I rolled over and reached blindly for the noise. It was my phone. Pulling my self onto my elbow, I pressed to phone to my ear, still half asleep.

'Hello?' I mumbled groggily, wiping a hand over my face.

'Clary where the hell - wait, are you _asleep_?' it was Jace and he sounded incredulous and irritated. But it wasn't the tone of voice he used that made me leap out of bed, stumbling and falling as my head swam with the sudden movement. It was the sight of my clock and the time it read.

8:30.

Oh crap. Scrambling to my feet, I swore colourfully under my breath, which resulted in Jace's exasperated laughter on the other end.

'Where are you?' I asked him, pulling a pair of jeans and T-shirt from my wardrobe. I stripped off my pyjamas, somehow not letting go of the phone in the process. Skillage.

'I'm outside your door,' he said, amusement clear in his tone. I swore again, this time in my mind and threw on my clothes, not even noticing what it was I was wearing.

'I'll be out in a minute then,' I replied, running into the bathroom.

'You're not going to let me in?' he said, obviously surprised.

'If the door's unlocked, you can. If it isn't, you can stay there.'

I hung up, hurriedly running a brush through my wild bed-head. I yanked it up into a ponytail and began to brush my teeth. There was no time for breakfast.

Running through the house, I grabbed my school bag, my wallet and began chasing down a pair of socks. Those things were the bane of my existence. I could never find a pair and more often than not, I had to steal my mother's.

Gathering my shoes in one hand, I was still pulling on my left sock when I burst through the front door. Jace wasn't there, so I supposed he was waiting down stairs. I tumbled down the stairs, through the door and outside, my half-pulled on sock falling off in the process. Running back, I hopped on one foot, trying to put it on as I came towards Jace's waiting Mustang.

Falling through the door, I landed heavily on the passenger seat with a huff. I shook any stray hair from my eyes, finally pulling on my shoes.

'You know,' Jace said, 'There are easier ways of getting my attention.'

I shot him a death glare and he laughed outright.

'Just start the car,' I muttered, pulling on my other shoe. He laughed again and the car rumbled to life.

Once my shoes were on I settled back against the seat with a relieved sigh. Glancing at the clock set into the dashboard, I turned my mouth down in satisfaction. 8:45. I bet that extra five minutes were because of my stupid socks. We were still going to be late though.

I caught Jace looking at me from the corner of his eye.

'Yeah?' I asked him, rubbing a stray bit of sleep from my eyes.

'Your shirt's on back to front,' he said, smirking, 'And your fly is undone.'

Glancing down at myself, I flushed an embarrassed red. I discreetly pulled up the fly of my jeans and pulled my arms out of the sleeves of my shirt, twisting it around my neck until it was the right way around. I slipped my arms back through the sleeves of the shirt and looked down to see what it was I was actually wearing.

It was a black shirt with a huge print of Chewbacca's head wearing a pair of multi-coloured sunglasses. It was one of my favourites.

As we neared the school, I felt my stomach tighten with nerves. _Ohgodohgodohgod_.

What was I doing? What in the name of sanity possessed me to agree to this? I wanted punch myself in the head for my stupidity. I wondered, not for the first time what Simon's reaction would be. Would he even talk to me? And then the quiet voice in the back of my head said, will he be jealous?

My thoughts were interrupted by Jace pulling up the car and saying,

'You ready?'

I took a breath and worked up a glare.

'No.'

Jace sighed. 'Are you always this angry in the morning?'

'Yes.'

He let out a breathy laugh and stared at the school looming above us. The parking lot was deserted. He swallowed and I realized he was just as reluctant to get out of the car as me. The thought was heartening.

'If we don't go in now, we'll get a detention,' I pointed out, resting my hand on the door-handle.

Jace smirked. 'And wouldn't that be just terrible,' he said, sarcasm clear in his tone. I rolled my eyes.

'It would, actually. Unless you don't want people to find out we're "dating"?'

Jace rolled his eyes and left the car, shaking his head.

'Come on then, Lover,' he grinned. 'Wouldn't to get a detention, now would we?'

I followed him up to the school office building, grumbling.

O.o

Second period. Geography.

This meant only one thing, and that was having to face Simon. All through first period, I had been rehearsing what I would say to him; how I would tell him that I was dating Jace Wayland. When I saw him, all ready waiting at our table I plastered a giddy expression on my face, and hurried to his side.

'Goodmoooorning, Miss Fray,' he drawled, leaning over the table.

Even with his messy hair and crooked glasses he was handsome.

'Morning,' I replied breathlessly, feeling a hesitant grin stretching across my face. I was suddenly worried. What if he was angry with me?

'Listen, Simon, I've got to tell you something.'

'What is it?' he asked, curious. I opened my mouth to answer just as Maia, a girl from my maths class bounded over, nudging Simon's shoulder with her own.

'We still on for tonight?' She asked, smiling flirtatiously. Simon grinned back.

'Yup,' he replied.

'Cool.' and she bounded away again, black braids flying out behind her.

And just as I felt the jealousy rise up in my throat, I knew that I really was doing this fake-dating thing with Jace, not only because I knew how he felt, but also because I wanted to make Simon jealous. I wanted to make him _green_ with envy, because I was a coward. And that was the truth.

Simon turned back to me, still grinning. I raised my eyebrows in question, fighting off the intense feelings of jealousy that were clawing up my throat.

'We're having a game night,' he explained. Before I could comment he asked me, 'What did you want to tell me?'

I swallowed, nerves replacing my previous jealousy. Clearing my throat I moved to sit beside him. The teacher was droning on about something that nobody cared about.

'You know Jace Wayland?' I began. Looking confused, Simon nodded.

'Yeah, I happen to remember you spouting a series of foul words after a run in with him.'

I slapped his shoulder. 'That was a rhetorical question,' I muttered. I looked down at my hands, twisting them on the table.

'Well, you see, I might, possibly, sort of am goingoutwithhim.' the last part came out rushed and jumbled together, but I knew he had understood me because he choked on his spit or something, grabbing the table for support.

'You're doing _what_?' he hissed, looking like I had just smacked him over the head with a sledgehammer. 'Are you joking?'

I shook my head, biting my lip.

'But,' he spluttered. 'You said you wouldn't go out with him if he paid you.'

_Thanks for the reminder_, I thought bitterly. Aloud, I said,

'I know. But we got paired together for this English assignment and I went over to his house a couple times and he was actually really nice and when he asked me out, I said yes.'

'Since when?' he demanded.

'Friday,' I answered quickly. Simon let out a loud sigh and ran a hand through his already messy hair.

'Clarissa Fray,' he said, 'I will never understand you.'

JPOV

I waited for Clary outside her geography class. We had agreed that I would meet her before recess and walk her to lunch, thus proclaiming our love to the school's population. I grinned to myself as I watched for the ball of red in the midst of students hurrying to get to lunch.

She was one of the last people out, followed closely by Rat-Boy, who glared at me suspiciously. I grinned at him mockingly before moving swiftly forward and dropping my arms around Clary's waist and pulling her close. She stiffened for a moment before relenting.

'Hello, Lover,' I murmured sarcastically in her ear, knowing it irritated her. She snorted, obviously unimpressed but linked her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek softly.

I smirked at her, knowing she didn't like to have to do it and moved back, releasing all of her except her hand. Her hand was small and fit perfectly in the palm of mine.

She turned to Rat-Boy, who was still glaring at me. I wondered what his problem was.

'Simon,' Clary said, 'You know Jace.'

Simon nodded, looking unimpressed. I grinned at his obvious dislike of me, but I wasn't sure if it was because he had thought Clary didn't like me or if it was something else.

And then, as we made our way to the cafeteria, I caught the sidelong glance Clary threw an oblivious Simon. It was a glance that was familiar to me, one that I knew I gave Isabelle all the time. So, it seemed Clary had her own reasons for agreeing to The Plan. I knew there was something off when she had told me her reasoning the other day.

She was in love too.

As we entered the cafeteria, I felt Clary tense slightly beside me and, in a moment of sympathy, I squeezed her hand in reassurance.

I pulled her through the tables, ignoring the whispers and stares of other students. To my distaste, Rat-Boy followed.

When we reached my usual table, I grinned at the bored expressions on Isabelle, Magnus and Alec's faces. A new girl was nothing new.

I slid into one of the chairs, pulling Clary down beside me. I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her a little closer but making sure not to be too open in my affections, as I would with, say, Kaelie.

Rat-Boy sat in the seat next to Clary, opposite Isabelle, who was looking amused.

'Izzy, Magnus, Alec, this is Clary,' I introduced her, ignoring Simon.

'And this is Simon,' Clary added in, jabbing my discreetly in the side. I grinned.

Everyone else said hello, but they looked confused, glancing between Clary and me quizzically. Simon got up to buy some food and Clary went with him, giving me a light peck on the cheek before she went. I smirked as the confused expressions on my friends' faces increased. Finally, it was Magnus, who demanded,

'Right. What the hell is on with you and Red over there? Are you going out?'

'What do you think?' I retorted, stealing one of Izzy chips. She slapped my hand but let me go.

'But - you weren't mauling her!'

I raised my eyebrow and smirked.

'Is that a bad thing? You pervert.'

Magnus, who was one of the gayest people I had ever met, rolled his eyes.

'Yes, Jace, I just love to see you suck face with your skanks.'

I frowned. 'Clary isn't a skank.' To my surprise, my tone came out warningly. Sure the fireball hated my guts, but she was my fake-girlfriend and as such, I could not allow for her to be trash-talked.

Isabelle rolled her eyes.

'Exactly, you idiot,' she said. Then she pointed a chip at me, brushing a lock of hair from her eye. I wished I could be the one to do that. 'Let me put it this way, have you kissed her yet?'

I almost choked on my own spit. That was something I hadn't thought of, so I didn't say anything. She took my silence as a confirmation and nodded her head knowingly.

'You like her,' she said. I rolled my eyes.

'If I didn't like her, Isabelle, I wouldn't go out with her.'

Internally, I laughed at that statement.

Izzy rolled her eyes. 'You know what I mean,' she said, and I did. And if she thought I felt about Clary differently to all the other girls, then The Plan was working.

Clary and Rat-Boy returned with their food and I began stealing Clary's, just to piss her off.

She slapped my hand away, sending me a death glare. I grinned at her and suddenly pressed my lips against her neck, right where her pulse beat. I felt her surprise as she stiffened, and I used the distraction to steal her slice of pizza from her tray.

'Hey!' She exclaimed, making a grab for it. I laughed and held it just out of her reach. The rest of the table looked on in amusement. I twisted my body and took a huge bite from the pizza, grinning as I chewed it triumphantly. I handed the rest of the pizza back to an infuriated Clary. I could practically feel the hate coming off of her in waves. Nobody else could though, and I realized Clary was an even better actor than I originally thought.

'Scab,' she muttered.

'You love me anyway,' I teased, seeing how far I could push her. She sent me a look that would have sent a lesser man running.

'I wouldn't go that far,' she teased right back, something sparking in her eyes and I knew I was going to pay for my tricking later on. _Bring it on_, I thought.

Isabelle, who I now realized had been in deep conversation with Simon, looked up and laughed.

'You know what,' she said to Clary, 'I think I could get to like you.'

Clary grinned and, without the knowledge of anybody else at the table, stomped down hard on my foot.

_Note to self: do not steal Clarissa Fray's pizza. Ever. Again_.

CPOV

Jace walked me to all of my classes, holding my hand the entire way. Most of the people we walked past stared in shock, or something like it. It was understandable. I mean, Jace Wayland, sarcastic, handsome, bad-boy going for me? A nerdy art geek who spends all their time with Simon? It was definitely a shock their tiny, conformist minds could not comprehend.

Of course, by the time English came around, I was just a step away from strangling him. The asshat would not shut up, making remarks about everything, and being generally annoying. Not to mention, he kept calling me "Lover".

'I hate you,' I said to him as we took our seats in English. He just grinned devilishly.

'No you don't. You think I'm charming.'

'Keep telling yourself that,' I snorted.

'I will,' was his breezy reply.

I rolled my eyes. The teacher was explaining our assignment. It was an advertising assignment, inspired by the teacher's obvious obsession with the Gruen Transfer (**A/N an Australian show about advertising**). We had to 'Sell the Impossible" which got all of us quite excited. Of course, this was a group assignment and when the teacher finished talking, I turned reluctantly to Jace, who was already smirking at me.

'You realise that we're going to have to pair for this, right?' I said. His smirk widened.

'Don't be so enthusiastic, you might pull something,' was his immediate reply. I groaned and rolled my eyes, dropping my forehead onto my desk.

'It's not my fault you used this as our excuse to our parents,' he pointed out.

'Yeah,' I said bitterly, 'Thanks for the reminder.'

Jace opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver some witty quip, but was interrupted by Jonathon Morgenstern shoving his head between us. I scowled. Jonathon was possibly an even bigger dickhead than Jace, he was just a lot better at masking it. He was tall, like Jace, and good-looking, but that was where the similarities ended. He was, for lack of a better word, a kiss-arse. He seemed to want to be nice to everyone. Or, rather, everyone that mattered. People like me? Not so much. He was the captain of the football team, and was an all-round star student.

'Oi, Jace,' he said, his white hair falling into his black eyes. Those eyes always freaked me out slightly; there was something about them, something rotten...

'Wanna partner for this?'

I looked at Jace, who was looking at Jonathon with thinly veiled distaste.

'Uh no, I'm paired with Clary for this. But when hell freezes over, I'll be sure to give you a call.' He said this with the false enthusiasm of a salesman and against my better judgment a small laugh escaped me.

Jonathon finally turned his head, his eyes narrowed.

'Oh, ok,' he said and slunk away, shooting me a look, that, if converted into a missile could obliterate a small country. I delivered one right back before turning around again.

'That guy creeps me out,' I said, shaking my head.

'You're not the only one, Lover,' he replied thoughtfully, tapping his pen against the surface of the desk. He looked far away for a moment, lost in thought, a slight frown pulling his brows together. And then he snapped back to attention, the familiar smirk curving his lips.

'So, when's our first date, Lover?'

I groaned and dropped my head once again against the desk.

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><p><em>Hmmm...so, first date anyone? Suggestions are welcome or any thoughts you guys have on what could go down are like music to my ears...or eyes, as it the case may be :P<em>

_Ooooh, Jonathon has made an appearance. And Clary doesn't like him, thank god :P_

_For anybody who has been living under a **rock** for their entire lives, Chewbacca is the Wookie out of Star Wars and he is AmAZiNG! Hahaha, I actually own the shirt Clary is wearing in this chapter, and I love it :P_

_Reviews = fabulousness_

_Blue._

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments series**.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello! Here is chapter 5, I am so sorry it's late but this one took me a while longer to write :P THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed - 27 review for 4 chapters - I nearly died I was so excited :P And added this story to their favourites/alerts list or added me to their fave/alerts author list thingo. (eloquent, I know ;P )_

_**Glassw**, an asnwer to your question: Updating more than one chapter at a time is highly unlikely. For this story I'm writing longer chapters, because its going to be shorter than the others. As for updating once a day, I try as hard as I can to do that, however there are cases, like with this chapter, where it takes a lot longer to write, whether its because the chapter is longer or I've got writer's block or some other unknown reason. So I will try to update as often as possible. Hopefully this answered your question :)_

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instrumnts Series, or the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy** _(yeah, I mentioned it :P )_

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><p>CPOV<p>

For five days now I have had to deal with Jace and his asshat ways and even though it's a Friday night, a night I would usually spend curled up in blankets watching some crappy romcom with my mother, I have to go out on a "date" with the bastard. I will admit though, having him pay for the entire night isn't such a bad thing, considering I'm almost broke. Yeah, not having a job is really beginning to affect me, in the worst ways. Jace and I agreed that I would arrive at his house a couple of hours early, giving us some time to work on the English assignment and for me to get ready for the "date". The only reason Jocelyn was letting me stay out so late with him was because I told her we had become "good friends" and were thinking of catching a movie with Simon later on in the evening. Or perhaps going to Pandemonium, an all ages club that Simon and I frequented, even though he hated it.

And I supposed the "good friends" part wasn't a complete lie. I mean I didn't hate Jace as much as I had, and at times he did have a semi-decent sense of humour. But I would never, ever admit that. To anyone. Ever. Did I already say that?

'Mum! I'm going! See you later tonight!'

Just as I was about to escape out the door, my mother caught me and pulled me back inside, a stern expression on her face.

'No drinking, no kissing, no hugging, got it?' It was almost as if she knew that we weren't going to the movies at all.

'Mum,' I groaned, rolling my eyes. 'First of all, alcohol is gross you know that. Second, who am I going to kiss? Jace?' I laughed, seemingly incredulous, even though my words caused an explosion of butterflies inside my stomach. Would Jace kiss me tonight? God I hoped not.

Jocelyn eyed me closely for a moment longer before shoving a small-ish purple bag with green drawstrings into my hands.

'Give these to Dorothea for me,' she said. I weighed the bag in my hand curiously. What ever it was inside was kind of heavy, and prism shaped, of the rectangular kind.

'What is it?' I asked her.

'Tarot cards,' my mother replied. 'I told Dorothea I was a painter and she asked if I could do these for her.'

I nodded my head. I may not have been very present this week, but I had noticed my mother set up with her art supplies by the window, bathed in sunlight as she worked. I just hadn't bothered to ask what it was she had been working on. Not because I'm a terrible person, but because she was in what I liked to call The Zone and would not have appreciated it if I interrupted her flow of creative juices.

'Ok. I'll see you later,' I said, kissing her quickly on the cheek and hurrying down the stairs toward the subway. There was no point in her driving me to Jace's house when it was barely a fifteen-minute trip. That, and I didn't want anymore of the awkward moments she seemed so fond of creating.

As I got off the subway and made my way to Jace's apartment, I began to wonder if the whole fake-dating was working. I didn't know if Simon was jealous, but I did know that every single time he saw Jace he scowled and moved away. Whether this was because he just didn't like him (completely understandable) or if it was because of the green-eyed monster I didn't know. But by god did I hope it was the latter.

Before I knew it, I was being let up into Jace's apartment. I waited outside the door, nervously fiddling with the tassels on the purple bag.

The door opened and there stood Jace, dressed in a loose black shirt and low-slung jeans. Despite that, I could still make out the lean curves of his muscles beneath.

He grinned as his eyes met mine and cocked an eyebrow.

'Come on in, Lover,' he said. I rolled my eyes and pushed past him into the house that was now familiar.

'My mum gave me these to give to Dorothea,' I said, holding up the purple bag. Jace's eyes flashed with amusement.

'No adults here, remember?' He said. And I did remember. The whole reason we decided that tonight was going to be our "date" was because it was Dorothea's night off and Jace's dad was on a business trip. Thus keeping our "dating" secret from our parental figures.

'Right,' I said, thrusting the Tarot cards into his hands. 'Can you give them to her for me then?'

'What is it?' he asked, taking the purple bag and heading towards the kitchen. I followed him, feeling thirsty.

'Tarot cards. My mum painted them for Dorothea.'

Reaching the kitchen, Jace placed the cards carefully on the table, nodding his head.

'Makes sense,' he mused, 'Dorothea owns a fortune telling stall. Hungry?'

I was surprised at his consideration, since barely two days ago I had to tackle him to get the time of day. It usually resulted in me bouncing off him like I'd run head-on into a tree-trunk.

'Thirsty, actually,' I answered, sitting on one of the barstools that lined the island bench. He moved to the fridge and buried his head inside, leaving his very nice jean-clad butt on display. Cursing myself and my stupid teenage girl hormones, I looked away.

'What would you like?' He asked from the fridge, voice slightly muffled.

'What have you got?'

Jace's head popped up and winked at me over his shoulder, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

'The question, Lover, is not what I've got, but what I_ haven't_ got.' he smirked and I grimaced.

'Must you?' I asked, trying to dispel the many disturbing images his words conjured. I was then about to point out the many hilarious ways his answer could be interpreted but he was already speaking again.

'Yes,' was his lazy reply as he stuck his head once again in the fridge. Then he said,

'Apple juice?'

My face twisted into a grimace. I hated apple-juice. Always have, always will.

'Yeach,' I said, sticking my tongue out to emphasize my disgust. 'No thanks, I don't like apple juice. Is there anything else?'

Jace straightened and stared at me like I was some sort of hideous creature.

'Don't like...' he said faintly, 'How can you not like apple juice?' he demanded, as if I was saying it to offend him personally.

'Easy,' I replied. 'It's disgusting.'

'No, you have mutant taste-buds,' Jace retorted before pulling out a bottle of Ginger beer.

'Now, if you say you don't like this, I may have to fake-break-up with you.'

I snorted but nodded my approval. Jace poured two big glasses and slid mine across the bench. I took a sip, loving the feel of the burning ginger bubbles as they slid down my throat. Jace picked up his glass and started back out of the kitchen and I followed him with a sigh. When we entered his bedroom, I was surprised to see a huge blackboard, the portable kind that you could roll around on wheels, in the centre of the room and his English book open on his bed.

'We might as well start on the assignment then, shall we, Lover?'

I rolled my eyes but internally, I was amused because in class and in the library at school, every time we started on the assignment, we either ended up discussing The Plan or (more commonly) began arguing and had to stop before somebody got suss.

'All right,' I sighed and set my ginger beer down on his desk, opposite his.

I picked up the chalk and wrote_ unsellable_ in the center and circled it.

'What things are unsellable?'

Jace, who had sprawled himself out on the bed, looked at the black board thoughtfully.

'Toads.'

I scribbled it down. And then he got up as well, taking a piece of chalk into his own hands. Suddenly, we were throwing ideas back and forth, scribbling them down as we went.

'Global warming,' I said.

'Invasion,' he said.

'Sickness.'

'Euthanasia.'

'Violence.'

'Edward Cullen,' Jace deadpanned and I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing, making my writing wobbly.

We brainstormed for about half an hour, coming up with the most stupid ideas we could imagine and then I said,

'Heartbreak.'

And just as I said that, another thought came to mind. My eyes met Jace's and the look in his eyes told me he was thinking the exact same thing.

'Jealousy,' we said in most probably never to be repeated unison. I scribbled it down and Jace circled it. There was a moment of satisfied silence as we stared at the huge brainstorm that covered the entire blackboard, some words written in caps, others in cursive before I face-palmed. Jace stared at me, an eyebrow raised in question.

'Part of the marking is our process,' I explained. 'How are we going to show process if it's all on a blackboard?'

'Ah,' Jace said, his brow furrowing. He was silent, staring at our work. Just as I was beginning to despair, Jace snapped his fingers and strode past me to his bedside table, pulling out the drawer.

Moments later, he had turned back around, holding our salvation in the palm of his hand.

A camera.

Internally, I was doing a happy dance. On the outside, however, I cool and collected because there was no way I was going to let on to Jace Wayland how good an idea it was.

'You don't have to say it,' Jace said, 'I already know I'm a genius.'

I rolled my eyes and just gestured for him to take the photo. Thirty seconds later, three photos had been taken, the blackboard had been wiped clean and the word _jealousy_ was scrawled in the center.

We brainstormed for another half-hour, starting, of course, with our own situation.

I glanced at my watch and stood up from my spot on the floor by the wall, my knees cracking audibly.

'I should probably get ready,' I said, grabbing my backpack from under his desk. Jace just nodded his head absently, staring intently at our brainstorm. I hesitated by the door.

'Uh, Jace? Where's the bathroom?'

Jace snapped to attention, his amber eyes meeting mine.

'Oh, right. Second door to your left. The word BATHROOM is written in nice, friendly letters across the front.'

I was about to make a sarcastic retort at his patronizing tone when I recognized the Hitcher Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference and instead of telling him off, I grinned.

'Hitcher Hiker's Guide. I didn't take you for a fan.'

Jace rolled his eyes, but he was smirking.

'Are you kidding, Lover? Science Fiction is my_ life_.'

You could cut the sarcasm that dripped from his mouth with a knife it was so thick. I rolled my eyes and pulled his door open, hoisting my bag up over my shoulder.

'Whatever,' I muttered. 'I'll be right back.'

O.o

JPOV

While Clary was gone, I figured I should probably get dressed as well. I took my time though, because Clary was a girl and if my past girlfriends and Isabelle were anything to go by; she would take at least an hour.

It was this type of thinking, however, that got me caught in nothing but my boxers fifteen minutes after Clary left by the girl herself. She opened the door without knocking, stepping inside with her head down. I was too shocked to see that she was actually_ ready_ to shout out a warning. She was dressed in a pair of black three-quarter tights and a long sleeved print dress that went to about mid-thigh, following the curves of her body in the most flattering way. It looked like something you would find in an old 60's movie. Her hair was out; rebellious red curls bouncing around her face and down her back. It occurred to me then that Clary Fray was actually quite beautiful.

'Jace -' she began, looking up. She broke off immediately, a hand flying to her mouth to smother a surprised squeak and her face flushed a furious red.

'Where are your _clothes_?'

'In the drawer,' I replied casually, leaning against the drawers in question. Clary was still blushing like mad as she averted her eyes to stare intently at the floor.

'And why aren't you wearing them?'

I shook my head in disbelief. The way she was questioning me, you would think it was her bedroom she had just caught me undressing in, not my own. But I had a sneaking suspicion she was incredibly embarrassed and didn't actually know what to do. Not that I was going to be overly helpful of course. In fact, I had a bone to pick with the fireball and now was as good a time as any.

'Because they are still in my drawer,' I told her. Her averted eyes narrowed at the floor and I smirked.

'So why don't you put them on?' She hissed. And then she sighed, backing towards the door, eyes still firmly on the floor. I moved quickly, slipping between her and the door just as she turned, her nose smacking into my bare chest.

Clary looked up at me and glared, a deep scowl cutting into her forehead.

'You realise that it's for reasons like this that my mother doesn't like me coming over to your house, right?'

'Oh don't worry, Lover. You're not my type. No, there is something I wish to discuss with you.'

Clary took a step back, crossing her arms defensively across her chest, still glaring at me with those big green eyes. Figuring it was safe to do so, I moved back to my chest of drawers, pulling on a pair of jeans. I turned back to her, T-shirt in hand and smirked when I caught her staring. She blushed and looked away, moving to stand just by the bed, arms still crossed. She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

'About The Plan,' I said, pulling my shirt on. 'I'm thinking we need to make some adjustments.'

She looked at me suspiciously.

'What kinds of adjustments?' she asked warily.

'Stuff like the dates. Especially the payment of the dates because I'm beginning to think that me paying for the entire night isn't very fair.' I paused but Clary didn't speak. She had gone pale and I wondered briefly if she knew exactly what was coming.

'And the thing that got me thinking this was the fact that we organized it like that because I was the one who wanted to make somebody jealous.'

I took a step forward, pulling myself away from the drawers and Clary took a step back, making the back of her knees hit the bed.

'Except,' I continued slowly, 'That's not true, is it? You want to make somebody jealous, just like me.'

Clary swallowed, and she looked pale, her green eyes wide in her head.

'You're in love with the Simon kid, aren't you? And you're using me to make him jealous just like I'm using you.'

Clary opened her mouth angrily, then seemed to think better of it. She closed her eyes and sighed, rubbing a hand across her face wearily.

'Fine,' she sighed upon opening her eyes again. 'What do you suggest?'

'We go halves in the payment. Since we're doing two things tonight, I suggest you pay for one, I pay for the other.'

Tonight, we had planned to go out to dinner first and then onto Pandemonium, a really popular all-ages club.

Clary scowled. 'I can't do that Jace,' she said, a defiant look on her face. I mimicked her posture, crossing my arms and cocked an eyebrow.

'Why not?' I demanded.

Clary hesitated and I could have sworn she blushed a little. And then she straightened, staring me straight in the eyes.

'Because I've got like twenty dollars in my wallet. And that's it.'

Her tone dared me to mock her. I just stared at her, feeling stupid. I hadn't taken into account that she might be broke, hell, I hadn't even bothered to ask if she had a job. Sighing, I uncrossed my arms.

'Fine,' I said. 'You give me your twenty and that can go towards tonight.'

Clary nodded silently and grabbed her wallet, thrusting the twenty-dollar note into my hands. I got my own wallet from my desk and slid it into my back pocket.

'Ready to go?' I asked her. She nodded and reached for the door. Before I could stop myself, I said,

'You look nice, by the way.' I said it because it was the truth and not because I wanted to see her smile.

Clary froze then turned, a look of amusement coloring her features.

'A compliment from Jace Wayland? Well I never.'

I smirked.

'Don't get used to it, Lover.'

She grinned back.

'I don't plan to.' she slipped out the door, leaving me slightly confused behind. And then I shook the feeling off. Clary didn't like me, which was the whole reason The Plan was actually in action. I knew that, and the feelings were mutual.

So why, when she said those words, did I feel a twinge in my chest? A twinge that felt very much like guilt.

Shrugging the feeling away, I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my keys, following the fireball from my house.

O.o

'Why did you take such a long time to get changed?' Clary's sudden question gave me pause; a bunch of sweet potato chips frozen halfway to my mouth. We had been sitting in comfortable silence in one of the booths at Taki's - possibly the best diner in all if New York City - for about fifteen minutes. Clary was eating a burrito, dropping lettuce all over her plate.

'I mean,' she continued when I didn't speak, 'I thought guys got ready in about three minutes. I was gone for about fifteen.' Clary narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. 'You were checking yourself out in the mirror, weren't you?'

I smirked in a _wouldn't you like to know_ way but answered honestly, because I was curious.

'May I remind you, I did get ready in under three minutes, thank you very much. You were there. I saw you staring.' I grinned as she glared, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. 'I just thought you would take a lot longer than you did. In my experience, girls have always needed an hour minimum to get ready. Isabelle included.'

Clary chuckled, taking a bite of her burrito.

'You do realise that not all girls take a long time to get ready, right?'

'Well, I suppose you are proof of that, aren't you?' I replied, dipping a chip into some mayo, and then some tomato sauce. Yum.

Clary looked down at her plate, frowning slightly as she chewed. A few curls fell across her forehead, obscuring my view of her face. I saw the tip of her ear peaking out through her heavy curls; it looked a little pink.

We fell back into a silence that was only broken by our chewing and the occasional clatter of a plate against the table, bumped by stray elbows and hands.

After a while, I chuckled into my food and Clary's head shot up, looking at me questioningly.

'Well, I think this is about as awkward as first date should be,' I explained. Clary rolled her eyes, a muscle in her cheek jumping as she turned her face briefly from me.

'A blind date, maybe,' she replied, rather pessimistically.

'But a date all the same,' I put in cheerfully. Clary smirked.

'Well, aren't you the optimist.'

'I can't help it if I have such a sunny disposition. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that I see every thing through luminous gold eyes.'

Clary snorted incredulously, which is not a good thing to do when you are just about to swallow a giant mouthful of burrito. She started coughing and spluttering, clutching at her throat as tears streamed down her cheeks and her face turned tomato red. I couldn't help it; I began laughing, even as I reached across the table to hit her once or twice on the back, trying to help. She slapped me angrily away, gasping out something sounded like,

'Not - helping - ass - hat.'

I had no idea what an asshat was but I stopped hitting her back, passing her instead what remained of my Coke. She downed it gratefully, still coughing every now and then as she drank. She thumped her own chest a couple of times and shook her head, squeezing her eyes tightly closed. By this time, I was having difficulty restraining the worst of my laughter.

Finally, she recovered enough to breathe like a normal person, though her face was still flushed red and her eyes watered.

'Don't _do _that to me,' she gasped, gulping down the rest of my Coke before I could protest. I chuckled and leaned back in my seat, regarding her with amusement. This girl was _so weird_. Sometimes, I was sure she hated me just as much as that very first day when her wallet hit my head, and other times it was like she...well, didn't hate me so much. It was confusing and intriguing. In a way she reminded me of Izzy, with her passion and feisty nature. She definitely didn't stand for any bullshit and there were times I was surprised I left school with all my necessary appendages. Not that I'm denying that it's usually my fault - I just loved to bait the girl, to get a rise out of her. Maybe because I thought it was better than having her laugh at me.

'Is there something on my face?' Clary's question broke into my reverie and I blinked, focusing on her face. She looked amused, and I realized I had been staring.

'You mean aside from a nose, a mouth, eyes...?'

Clary rolled her eyes. I noticed she had finished her burrito and was picking up stray bits of lettuce from her plate with her fingers. Realizing this, I finished off my own dinner, pushing the empty plate away from me.

Clary slid from her seat.

'I'll just be a sec,' she said and disappeared through the diner, probably looking for the bathrooms.

I fiddled with the saltshaker, watching as more people drifted into the diner, chattering and laughing. I began to imagine that one day, it would be Izzy and I coming here, going on dates, doing what Clary and I had been doing for the past week only it wouldn't be pretend. Izzy wouldn't hate me and she probably wouldn't nearly choke to death halfway through the date.

Clary materialized suddenly by my arm. She grinned when I looked at her and gestured to the door.

'Can we go now?' She asked, tugging on my sleeve. I stood, grabbing my wallet. I noticed she had a bit of glitter highlighting her cheekbones, and eyeliner now ringed her eyes, making her green eyes even greener. She looked very pretty. Wow, I didn't realise I could be so lame. Thank god she couldn't read my thoughts.

'Well, aren't you eager?' I said. Clary grinned again.

'I like the club.'

I smirked. Onto Pandemonium then.

O.o

CPOV

The pounding music and the strobe lights welcomed Jace and I as we entered the club. Knowing I probably should, I grabbed his hand, leading him through the club, on the outskirts, to slip into a little alcove set into the wall, a table and chairs set up inside. We sat down, looking at one another warily for a moment. I still couldn't believe I nearly choked to death part way through dinner. Way to go, Clary, real smooth. Not wanting to sit down all night, I got suddenly to my feet, Jace's eyes following me curiously.

'Come on,' I said. 'We should probably go dance.'

Jace smirked.

'I didn't know you wanted me so much Lover,' he replied, still sitting down. I rolled my eyes.

'You want this to work or not?' I demanded. Jace grinned, probably just happy to get a rise out of me. I've really got to stop falling for that.

Jace got to his feet and pulled me into the throng of grinding, twisting, silk clad bodies that took up the dance floor. Spinning me around, he linked my arms around his neck and rested his hands on my hips, pulling me closer against him. Our hips swayed to the beat, our bodies pressed together by the ones around us. I lost myself in the pounding rhythm, in the smoky, sweaty atmosphere as I danced with Jace, closing my eyes and grinning because as much as I hated to admit it, Jace was a good dancer.

Suddenly, Jace's grip on me tightened. I looked up in concern and saw him looking over my shoulder at someone. Craving my neck, I saw Isabelle shimmying her way through the crowd towards us. I turned back to Jace and grinned. He grinned back.

'Jace! Clary!' Isabelle shouted over the pounding music. 'What are you guys doing here?'

Was it just me, or did she look slightly panicked for a moment? I glanced at Jace and saw confusion flash through his eyes. Not just me then.

'Dancing,' Jace drawled. 'Isn't that usually what you do at a club?'

Isabelle rolled her eyes and made a face at me, pointing at Jace as she did so. I laughed.

'So,' she continued to shout over the music. 'Are you guys on a date?'

Jace rolled his eyes and slipped an arm around my waist.

'No Izzy,' he replied sarcastically. 'We're here to seduce demons into following us into the back room and then killing them. Maybe you could join us some time?'

Isabelle rolled her eyes again. Just then, Simon of all people, materialized by my shoulder.

I stared at him in shock.

'Simon?' I shouted. 'What are you doing here?'

Son grinned, although it faded a little when his eyes fell on Jace. I felt a spark of pleasure. Maybe he was jealous?

'Dancing.' Simon replied.

'You never come here,' I said in confusion. Simon grinned again, pushing his glasses further up his nose. He looked like he normally did; wearing old faded jeans and a slogan T-shirt. Under the smoky lights of the club, I couldn't make out the words. His hair was messy as usual and I felt a small tug in my heart at his familiarity.

'Sure I do,' he replied, grinning. I shook my head, still confused, but willing to let it go.

Jace and Isabelle had been talking for a while and had pulled away from Simon and I. The look on Jace's face told me things weren't as light-hearted between him and Isabelle as they had been for Simon and me. Walking over to Jace, I kissed him quickly on the cheek, telling him I was just going to get a drink.

To my surprise, he grabbed my hand and said, 'I'll come.'

'Ok,' I shrugged and we pushed our way through the crowds until we reached the bar. Immediately, I asked,

'What's up with you and Isabelle?'

Jace avoided my gaze, looking angry. When he spoke, his voice came out rough.

'She doesn't think I like you...the way everyone else does. She thinks I'm toying with you.'

'What? But, that's ridiculous! You've been nothing but nice to me when they're around.'

Something like a smile curves his lips when I said that. I felt bad for him. Were we really that bad at pretending?

Jace's smile disappeared.

'Clary, I think I know how to convince her but...you're probably not going to like it.'

Instantly, I became wary, but made sure to keep my face suitably blank.

'What is it?'

Jace looked at me apologetically.

'I'm going to kiss you.'

My breath huffed out of me as disappointment filed in. I knew this had to come at some point. Oh well, Jace wasn't so bad, I guess. I could just imagine it was Simon I was kissing, right?

'Oh. Ok.'

Jace looked at me, obviously surprised but before he could say anything, I spotted Isabelle coming towards us, Simon following a little ways behind.

'Do it now,' I said, stepping closer to him. Jace nodded, almost imperceptibly and ghosted his hands over my shoulders.

'You can close your eyes and think of England, if you like,' he whispered, already so close I could feel his warm breath fanning over my face.

'I've never been to England,' I said but closed my eyelids anyway. I could feel him getting closer, the space between our lips getting smaller and smaller until there was no space between us at all and his lips were pressed softly against mine. His mouth was soft and warm, brushing gently across mine, so in contrast to his sarcastic nature. The kiss deepened, with Jace taking my bottom lip between his, I responded by taking his top lip. A burst of heat spread through my entire body, making me link my hands around his neck and tangle my fingers in his hair, so soft and silky, tangling around my fingers. Jace pulled me even closer to him so that our bodies were touching everywhere. His calloused, long-fingered hands tangled in my hair and the heat between us increased and it felt so good, having his lips around mine, having his hard body pressed against mine, to have his fingers tangling through my hair.

We pulled apart and stared at one another for a long time. Slowly, I moved back and Jace released all of me except my hand, holding it tightly in his.

I glanced at him but he was already ordering our drinks and if it weren't for the rapid pulse at his throat and the pounding of my own heart, I would have been convinced that nothing had happened at all.

I looked over my shoulder to see both Isabelle and Simon frozen in the midst of the writhing bodies, their eyes wide with shock.

It was then that I realised I hadn't been thinking of Simon at all. Not even the ghost of a thought. It had just been Jace and his mouth and his kiss and his hands in my hair. Just Jace. And not Simon.

Oh no.

O.o

We had been at Pandemonium for a few hours now, Jace and I dancing with one another and then dancing with our respective loves, and then with one another again. The whole time I was constantly trying to push the memory of our kiss from my head, trying to lose myself in the music. My first kiss. With Jace goddamn Wayland. Not Simon Lewis, the boy I had been in love with for five years but Jace Wayland, boy I'd been fake-dating to make Simon jealous. What the _hell _was wrong with me?

I pulled away from Jace, my current partner, telling him I'd be right back.

'You ok?' he asked me. I told myself it was because he had to act all concerned-boyfriend-y because Isabelle and Simon were in earshot and not because he actually was concerned.

'I'm fine!' I shouted over the music. 'I'm just going to sit down for a sec!'

He nodded, not looking like he believed me and I pushed through the crowds until I came out to the little alcove Jace and I had first come to when we arrived.

I was just about to sit down when something closed around my arm, pulling me aside. Thinking it was some obsessive wanting my seat and I turned angrily - to come face to face with Jonathan Morgenstern. He was scowling at me, his dark eyes furious in the dim lighting.

'Hey!' I said, wrenching my arm out of his grip. 'What do you think you're doing?'

He continued to glare at me with so much hate I felt like shrinking back.

'I know what you're doing,' he hissed, stepping right into my space. 'I know you don't love him.'

I stared at him in confusion. How could he know about Jace and I?

'Jonathan, I don't know what you're talking about.'

His face twisted into a snarl and I thought he was going to grab me again. If he did, I would make sure he wouldn't be able to make children. My back was to the wall and over his shoulder I could see a certain blonde head making its way toward us.

'You know _exactly _what I'm talking about, you little bitch.'

This time, I did take a step back and felt the wall press into my back. What was this guy's problem?

'I don't know what you're talking about. Now please, leave me alone.'

I made to move around him but he blocked my way. I was beginning to feel a little scared.

'Move Jonathan.'

I was pleased when my voice came out strong and steady. Jonathan opened his mouth but it was not him that spoke.

'I think you had better move out of the way, Morgenstern,' said Jace, suddenly looming behind Jonathon. I can honestly say I had never been happier to see him in my life.

'Jace - ' Jonathon began with wide eyes. Was he trying to look innocent?

'Clary asked you to move out of her way. So I suggest you do as she says.' His voice was falsely pleasant, and only a deaf person wouldn't be able to hear the underlining menace in his tone.

Jonathon scowled deeply at me, his black eyes so hateful I felt myself flinch slightly. And then he had slunk away into the crowd, his body soon lost in the writhing sea of dancers.

Jace looked at me in concern.

'Are you ok?' He asked, coming a bit closer. I nodded, backing away from the wall. I took a breath and looked up at him.

'Um, thank you, for that. The guy just wouldn't give up.'

Jace nodded and frowned; looking over in the direction that Jonathan had disappeared in. When he turned back to me, he was smirking.

'Looks like Simon's not the only one I've been making jealous.'

I didn't understand him for a moment, and then it clicked. I made a derisive noise.

'I don't think so, Jace. The guy hates me.' And he scares me. I added that last bit in my head because I didn't want to admit it to anyone.

'They say hostility is just sublimated sexual attraction.'

I rolled my eyes and pushed past him.

'Ok, please stop speaking.'

He caught my arm gently, pulling me back to face him.

'You sure you're ok?' he looked and sounded genuinely concerned. I stopped and smiled at him reassuringly.

'I'm fine Jace. Really.' I paused and then said, 'I know we designed The Plan because we didn't like one another but...could - could we be friends?'

Jace paused for a moment, looking unsure and then he grinned devilishly.

'I thought you hated me?'

'I _did_ hate you. Now, I just harbour vengeful feelings.'

Jace grinned and held out his hand.

'All right then, Lover. We can be friends.'

I grinned right back.

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><p><em>So there you go, their first kiss - fluffy! hahaha. Isn't Jonathan a right d***head?<em>

_Reviews = fantasticalness_

_Blue._


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello! I know I'm a terrible, horrible, **evil** person for not updating but I had a lot of difficulty writing this chapter. There's a fair bit of fluff. Anyway, I hope you guys like it!_

_(I FIXED THE LINE BREAKS! CLAP CLAP CLAP FOR ME!)_

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments series.**

* * *

><p>Saturday:<br>'I'm bored,' I huffed, falling down onto the couch, 'Entertain me.' Clary glared at me from one of the blackboards, her small body stretched out to tack a sketch to the top. We were working on the English assignment, pieces of paper and work books littered the floor and coffee table, the two blackboards covered with brainstorms and blu-tacked pieces of paper holding various story-boards. We had had to relocate from my room when we added the second blackboard. Why I even had two blackboards, I have no idea.

'Yeah, well, suck it up, because this is due next week and we still haven't started filming. Anyway, the pizza'll be here in like, half an hour.' Clary told me, tone sharp and exasperated.

It had been a week since our first "date" and even though we now classified ourselves as friends, we still fought like there was no tomorrow. I wondered if there were any other relationships quite like ours. We were like friends with benefits, only we both hated the benefits part. Kind of ironic, really.  
>Clary sighed suddenly, snapping me back to reality. She stepped away from the blackboard, moving to where the sound-system was situated. Without a word, she began flipping through the CD collection until I saw her eyes light up with recognition and a pleased smile ghosted across her lips. She put the still unknown CD into the stereo and hit play.<p>

As she came back to the centre of the lounge-room, T. Rex began playing. I laughed aloud at her choice. Who would have thought it?  
>She began swaying her hips absently as she continued to tack up the story-board and before I could tell myself not to; I had leapt up onto the coffee table, reaching out to grab her around the waist.<p>

'Care to dance, Lover?' I asked as I pulled a very surprised Clary up onto the coffee table with me. She laughed, throwing her head back and shaking it in disbelief but let me take her hands in mine.

We danced to T. Rex for what felt like hours, the coffee table creaking under our combined weight. I put one hand on her waist, using the other to grasp her hand and we dipped and twisted, Clary's laughter mingling with the music. We pulled apart, hands still joined and Clary twirled under my arm, her red curls bouncing and flying through the air like a halo. I laughed with her, pulling her back to me so she was pressed against my chest and just as the song finished, I dipped her, supporting her weight with one hand around her waist and the other beneath her neck and shoulders, her arms linked around my neck. Both of us were panting a little, but didn't move, even as the CD clicked and began again. I was suddenly reminded of our "date" and the way her lips had felt against mine, the way her hands had tangled through my hair, fingers gently massaging the skin on the back of my neck.  
>And the way all thought of Isabelle, of anything, had flown from my mind. Looking into her endless green eyes, I kidded myself into believing she was thinking the same thing.<p>

The sudden, unfamiliar clearing of a throat startled us out of our trance. Clary let go of my neck in surprise and I stumbled a little, thankfully not letting go of her. I pulled Clary upright before I looked at whoever it was that had intruded on our dance - and was instantly grateful that I did, because I would have dropped her otherwise. In the entryway to the lounge room stood none other than my father, looking amused as he assessed our situation on the coffee table. Michael Wayland looked as impeccable as usual, suit perfectly pressed, not a hair out of place. His briefcase rested on the floor beside him.  
>'Am I interrupting something?' he asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in his tone. Clary flushed an embarrassed red and shuffled uncomfortably.<br>The shock of seeing him here after almost a month's absence wore off quickly. I was used to my father's comings and goings by now for them to not affect me very much at all. He had caught me unawares, was all.

'Yes actually,' I answered, 'we were dancing.'

Michael's eyebrows quirked with amusement.

'On the coffee table?'

'No. We were dancing on the couch. We came up here because the air is nicer.' My voice was practically dripping sarcasm and Michael turned his attention to Clary with a shake of his head.

'Well, what have we here? Jace, I hope you're being a gentleman and not corrupting this lovely girl.'

'Lovely?' I snorted at the same moment that Clary said, 'Gentleman?'

Both of us started in surprise then glared at one another. Michael chuckled lowly in the background, causing us to turn our glares on him. He ignored it and turned his attention to Clary.

'I'm Michael Wayland, Jace's dad.'

Clary grinned.

'I'm Clary. Nice to meet you.'

'And you,' Michael replied easily, turning to me with raised brows.  
>'Well, I'd better leave you two to whatever it is you were doing...'<p>

His voice faded off as he backed out of the lounge-room. He was gone in seconds, disappearing down the hall to lock himself up in his study until it was time for him to leave again.

'That was your dad?'

Clary's question made me smirk.

'Apparently so.'

She looked thoughtful for a moment, studying my face carefully.

'You don't look much like him. I mean, you're tall and stuff but your face is, uh, different.' She looked displeased with her choice of words but shrugged at the end of her sentence, uncaring.

I smirked.

'I know. Apparently, I'm a sexy male version of my mother.'

Clary rolled her eyes; prepared to speak but was interrupted by the door-bell.

'That'll be the pizza,' I said, hopping down from the coffee table at last. I took a single step forward - and stumbled into the couch, my shins catching on the edge. Clary had leapt off the coffee table and attached herself to my back, her legs locking around my waist and her arms around my neck.

'And...mosh!' she laughed in my ear, tapping my shoulder impatiently.

I chuckled and shook my head, taking off suddenly through the lounge-room, expertly dodging all obstacles. Clary, who had leant back lazily, holding one hand in the air, shrieked and clutched her arms around my neck.

'Mosh!' She continued to shout until we reached the door and I flung it open to reveal the very surprised and slightly afraid looking delivery guy.  
>'Hello, dear fellow,' I exclaimed, putting on a fake British accent.<p>

Clary let out a small giggle and hid her face in my shoulder to muffle it. I continued to beam at the delivery guy, who was beginning to look monumentally creeped out.

'Uh, that'll be fifteen dollars,' the guy said, his eyes flicking between me and Clary in confusion.  
>'Right,' I said and there was an awkward moment where I had to let go of Clary (although she was latched to me so tightly it didn't really matter) and fish around my back pockets for my wallet, pull out the fifteen dollars, and then juggle the two pizza boxes in my hands. Needless to say, the delivery guy nearly flew down the stairs. I shook my head as I kicked the door closed. Some people.<p>

Clary was still laughing a little, and was still attached to my back as I placed the pizza down on the coffee table.

'You know,' I said, 'It's rude to terrify delivery guys. I think that guy was going to have to change his pants after that.'

'Me?' Clary said in mock disbelief. 'You're the one who started talking in a crappy Jamaican accent.'

I frowned and craned my neck so I could see her face where it rested on my shoulder.

'It was a British accent, thank you very much.'

She snorted derisively.

'It was Jamaican.'

'Nuh.'

'Yuh.'

I narrowed my eyes at her and she grinned wickedly, poking her tongue out mockingly.

'You're too heavy,' I said, letting a bit of wickedness into my tone. Before Clary could reply, I had crashed backwards onto the couch, effectively pinning her beneath my back. She squealed, and her arms rained down on my shoulders, her legs kicking out uselessly. Clary continued to pound my shoulders and sides as I laughed. That was until she managed to free one of her arms and jab me in the side, just a little way below my ribcage. I gave an involuntary jerk and the both of us stilled completely. And then Clary jabbed me again, letting out a peal of laughter when I gasped and jerked again. Oh no. No no no no. This was bad. Very very bad. Only Isabelle knew about that spot and would abuse it at every chance she got.

It was too late though, Clary had already started attacking the ticklish area, leaving me gasping and trying desperately to wriggle away. I slid off of her and onto the floor in an attempt to free myself. Once I was off her, Clary leapt to her feet and grabbed one of the pizza boxes, sitting on the floor beside me with it in her lap. She grinned widely at me, as if she hadn't just been torturing me. I sat up slowly, warily, as she opened the pizza box.

'Pizza?' She asked, smiling innocently. As I leaned forward to take a slice, her hand darted forward and she zapped me once more in the side, causing me to drop my slice of pizza in my lap. She rolled on the floor, laughing victoriously.

'This,' she gasped, 'Is going to be fun.'

I highly doubted that.

O.o

'What happened to your mum?'

Clary asked me, leaning across me to grab another slice of pizza. We had finished off the first in a matter of minutes and were now onto the second.  
>For a moment, I didn't know how to answer her. I mean, how would she know about my mother? I've never even mentioned her.<br>Maybe that's why, idiot, a voice in the back of my head said.

In the end, I just shrugged, not looking at her.

'She died when I was ten. Some crazy guy with a gun shot her in the street.'

I heard Clary's gasp but didn't turn to look at her.

'I'm sorry,' she murmured. I shrugged again, not wanting to turn this into one of those disgusting cliched moments they have in crappy movies.

'I have never understood why people insist upon apologizing for something that wasn't their fault. Unless you were the fifty year old man with the gun?'  
>I could practically <em>feel <em>Clary rolling her eyes.

'Whatever, Jace,' she muttered, taking a large bite of her pizza. She let out a heavy sigh and I turned to look at her questioningly. The look on her face was all the answer I needed. She was staring despondently at the mess of our homework, probably wondering about how much more we still needed to do.  
>It really was a depressing thought.<p>

O.o

We really hadn't accomplished much more of the homework by the time Clary's mother came to pick her up. It was raining heavily outside, giving Clary an excuse to be picked up. I watched her as she ran out into the rain, instantly drenched, and jumped into her mother's car, her face turning momentarily towards my window, waving a little.

By the time I waved back, her car had disappeared into the streets of New York.  
>I wandered aimlessly into the kitchen, avoiding the mess Clary and I had made of the lounge-room.<br>I was surprised to see Michael sitting on one of the barstools, his elbows leaning on the bench, a thoughtful kind of frown on his face. He was chewing slowly on a piece of toast, staring absently at a spot on the sink. I pulled the ginger beer from the fridge, pouring what was left into a glass. As it turns out, the beverage helped Clary and I do homework.  
>That's what we told ourselves, at least.<p>

I leaned my fists against the bench, regarding my father with a raised brow.

'When do you leave again?' I asked him. He didn't answer for a moment, then he turned his face towards me, but kept his eyes focused on the same spot on the sink.

'Next Saturday,' he answered, unblinking. 'I'll be going to California.'

I nodded, taking a swig of my drink. After a pause, I decided that was enough father/son bonding for one night and pushed away from the bench. Just as I was about to leave, his voice stopped me.

'Jace, wait a second.'

I turned slowly, leaning against the wall. Michael had half turned in his seat, one arm braced against the bench. He was frowning and I was expecting some sort of reprimand for something I had no doubt done. While nothing came to mind, I was fairly sure that it was probably something along those lines.  
>What came out of his mouth, however, was entirely different.<p>

'I thought you liked Isabelle Lightwood?'

I frowned, why on Earth would he ask a question like that? As absent as my father had been, he did take some interest in my life, and knew all about my love for Isabelle. He and Dorothea were the only living souls (apart from Clary) who knew.

'I do,' I said, allowing my confusion to show in my tone. 'Why?'

Michael shrugged, turning the corners of his mouth down.

'I don't know. I just thought you and that Clary girl...'

I nearly choked on my own spit as my father's voice pittered out. He thought Clary and I were...?

'No!' I burst out, surprised at how loud and rushed my voice sounded. 'God no. Clary and I are just friends. In fact, two weeks ago she would have been happy to string me up by my intestines.'

Michael's eyebrows rose, whether in disbelief or amusement, I was not sure.

'If you say so,' he murmured, and I began to sway towards amused. 'I just thought you two had a thing when I walked in today, that's all.'

My mind flitted back to that moment on the table, where it was like Clary and I had been frozen, just for a moment in time, too lost in the music and the closeness of one another to think of anything other than just that. I shook my head, turning once more from Michael.

'Clary and I are just. Friends.'

And even though my voice came out much steadier than before, I wondered momentarily who I was trying to convince.  
><em>You're trying to convince yourself<em>, a small voice that sounded very much like Dorothea whispered.

Damn it!

My father, Michael Wayland, that was who I was convincing. Not me, not Clary, just my Dad. Because I, Jace Wayland, was in love with Isabelle Lightwood and Clarissa Fray was in love with Rat-Boy.

So there, brain, take that.

CPOV  
>I was soaked within seconds of stepping out of Jace's building. I leapt quickly into my mum's car, adjusting in my seat so I could look back at Jace's window. I saw him standing there, a ghostly figure through the rain and waved, smiling a little as his hand rose in reply.<p>

I twisted back to face the front, staring absently through the window at the rain that made the lights of New York shimmering and broken, like fractals. My mind drifted, images of this afternoon flitting through my mind, one after the other, each one filling me with a kind of...satisfaction? Happiness? Contentment? I didn't know how to describe it, I just knew that it left me smiling absently through the window, humming T. Rex under my breath.

'How did you guys go?'

My mother's questioning cut through my reverie and I blinked, focusing on her and not on my memories.

'It was good. We've got a few storyboards up and we should be able to start filming either tomorrow or sometime this week.'  
>I watched as Jocelyn's eyebrows rose and drew together, her lips pursing.<p>

'You're going over there _again?_' She asked, sounding incredulous. I looked at her, confused.

'Uh, yeah. Mum, I told you, the assignment...?'

Jocelyn shook her head and glanced at me ruefully from the corner of her eye.

'Clary,' she said and I immediately tensed. She only used that tone of voice when she was trying to "connect" with me. Kind of like when she gave me The Talk. Given previous experiences, I knew that whatever she was going to say next was going to be incredibly humiliating. 'I know you and Jace have been spending a lot of time together, and I know you might start to...feel things for him - after all he is rather attractive -'

'Oh my God, Mum!' I shouted, unable to take any more. My face was so hot you could fry an egg on it. Jocelyn broke off, flashing me an amused smile. 'Why would you even _say_ that?'

'I'm just saying, Clary,' she continued, as if she were being perfectly reasonable and sane, 'That you're a teenage girl and being around someone like Jace Wayland is going to make you probably swoon a little. And, not only do I want you to be careful, I also want you to know that if you *do* end up going out with him, I may have to murder him.'

'Mum!' I squeaked.

She rolled her eyes.

'Fine, I'll only murder him if he hurts you. If you go out with him, I'll just...scare him a little.'

I dropped my head into my hands, shaking it in dismay.

'I can't believe I'm hearing this,' I mumbled through my fingers. I sighed and straightened up again, making sure that when I spoke, I left absolutely no room for doubt.

'Mother,' I said, 'I do not, I repeat _do not_, like Jace Wayland in that way. Hell, I've only just begun to tolerate him as a friend. You have absolutely no need to worry. Or send death threats. As much as this may surprise you, I don't really want to see you end up in prison.'

Jocelyn rolled her eyes, a small smile making the corner of her mouth twitch up.

'Whatever you say, Clary. Whatever you say.'

ONE WEEK LATER:  
>I didn't know what to buy her. It needed to be something meaningful so that Izzy would believe it but I also didn't want Clary to laugh at me for buying something stupid. It was three weeks tomorrow that we had been "going out" which, really, was the longest I had ever gone out with a girl. Shame it wasn't for real. But, I reasoned with myself, if I ended up with Izzy, I planned to be with her a lot longer than three weeks.<p>

'Can I help you with anything, sir?'

The twenty-something behind the counter of the jewellery shop I had entered looked at me questioningly, probably trying to suss out if I was a buyer. I  
>leaned forward, over the counter and grinned when a light pink coloured her made-up cheeks.<p>

'I was looking for a gift for my...girlfriend.'

Even after three weeks, it was still weird to say. Of course, Clary and I had gotten closer over these past few weeks. In fact, I could honestly she was one of my closest friends excluding Izzy, Alec and Magnus. Although, we probably hugged and kissed a lot more than what was usual. Our situation always made me smile: we were like friends with benefits, only the both of us hated the benefits part.

The lady flashed me a smile and beckoned me over to a clear glass case, filled with expensive looking necklaces.  
>I leaned over it trying to find a gift that Clary would like. There were necklaces made of gold with heavy pendants and necklaces with chains so thin it was like they weren't there at all. The lady pulled out a few for me to inspect but none of them were right. We moved onto bracelets, and the same thing happened, then rings and earrings until the lady was more than a little irritated with my indecision. I didn't see why though. I mean, it was her <em>job<em>, right?  
>I left the place empty handed, just like I had left every other jewellery store I had visited that morning. I had thought that jewellery was the way to go. Obviously, I was wrong.<p>

I pulled my hood up as I stepped out into the brisk autumn weather, at a loss as to what I could possibly buy her. She liked reading. She liked manga. Maybe a comic book? No, that's something Rat-Boy would give her. Clothes perhaps? But I didn't know her size and I wasn't really in the mood to get slapped.

I knew I should have brought Izzy with me. Or Magnus for that matter. I was just about to call him when I passed an art gallery, paintings hanging on display in the windows. Immediately, I slid my phone back into my pocket.

The inside of the gallery was cool and white; artworks hung from the walls, sculptures were situated all around. I made my way slowly through until I reached the gift shop and headed straight for the posters.  
>Fifteen minutes later, Clary's gift was rolled up under my arm.<p>

God I'm amazing.

Monday:

'Clary, get your skinny butt out of bed _right now_.'

I growled into my pillow at the familiar voice, muddled by my sleep-muffled ears. The voice was definitely male. Simon, perhaps? I didn't really care, I just  
>wanted to sleep.<p>

A hand grabbed my shoulder and I jerked away, mumbling words that, in the universal language of sleep, meant _piss off_.

Whoever it was laughed loudly, their hand releasing my shoulder. With my eyes still tightly closed, I sighed in relief and snuggled deeper into my blanket in search of sleep.

Only to have said blanket torn away from me and a hideously bright light invade the cracks in my eyelids. I squealed and threw my hands over my face, trying to escape that damnable sunlight. Whoever it was laughed again and I heard a noise that snapped me from my sleepy stupor as quickly as if a bucket of water had been dumped on my head.

The sound of a picture being taken.

I sat bolt upright, searching for whoever it was. The sound of uncontrollable laughter made me whip my head to the side to see Jace freaking Wayland leaning against my door-frame waving the camera tauntingly.

Oh, he was a dead man.

I leapt from the bed, shouting incoherently and lunged toward him, arms outstretched. He ducked easily out of the way, sprinting out the door and down the hallway. I sprinted after him, hard on his heels as we tore through the kitchen.

'MOTHER!' I roared as we zoomed past her. 'How could you let him in our house?'

There was only her hysterical laughter for a reply.

We had reached the lounge-room and Jace had leapt over the couch in a single bound, landing neatly on the other side.  
>I slammed into the back of it, stepping to the right once I recovered. Jace immediately stepped left. Each time I took a step in one direction, he would take one in the other.<p>

'Gimme the camera, Jace,' I growled. He shook his head.

'No chance, Lover.'

Right, that's it.

I braced myself on the back of the couch and jumped over it but Jace had already taken off again, back through the house and out the door. I tore after him, taking the stairs two at a time. He was almost at the bottom and just as his foot stepped off the last stair, I decided to go kamikaze and leap the rest of the way down the stairs.

I slammed into his back and he crashed to the ground with a surprised cry. My forehead knocked his head and I jarred my knee on the floor.  
>But it was definitely worth it as I sat on his back and plucked the camera daintily from his outstretched arm.<p>

'Thank you,' I said sweetly, and, still sitting on his back I deleted the incredibly unflattering picture of me sprawled out on the bed looking like some kind of zombie.

Jace groaned beneath me and suddenly twisted around so that I fell off him and landed with a thump.

Jace laughed as he got gracefully to his feet, staring down at me with his signature smirk. He held out a hand and I took it, wincing as I stretched my wounded knee.

'I hate you,' I mumbled and began hobbling my way up the stairs.  
>He laughed and I could feel him right behind me.<p>

'You're the one who jumped on me.'

'And you're the one who took a photo of me while I was still zombified!'

'Yeah, it was pretty hilarious,' Jace mused. I turned to glare at him. He just grinned, giving me a little shove.

'Go on then, Lover, and get dressed. We wouldn't want to be late now.'  
>I scowled at him and mumbled one more I hate you before hobbling the rest of the way up the stairs, Jace's amused chuckles following me the whole way.<p>

O.o

I was still fuming when Jace pulled up in the school's parking lot. Jace, of course, looked insanely pleased with himself, and had smirked when I showed him the huge bruise that turned my entire knee purple.

'That's what you get for jumping on people,' he had said.

I couldn't believe my mum had even let him in the house at all, let alone my room. And to be so rudely awoken definitely was not helping my mood.

Jace glanced at me, a smirk curving the shape of his lips, a single dark gold eyebrow raised.

'Are you going to be like this all day?' He inquired with mild curiosity. I delivered a withering glare and his smirk widened.

'Considering my day will be spent with you then yes, I would say so.'

'You wound me with your words, Clarissa,' he said, clutching his heart theatrically.

'Good,' I grumbled. I knew I was being a bit petulant but, in all honesty, I really didn't care. Mornings weren't my thing, ok?

Jace sighed then leaned across so that his face was hovering just in front of mine, his warm, mint smelling breath fanning over my cheeks as he spoke.  
>'What can I do to make it up to you, Lover?' he breathed seductively, his gold eyes smoldering. For a moment, my brain froze and I felt the phantom tingle of another's lips pressed against mine.<p>

Of _Jace's _lips pressed against mine.

And then I snapped out of his spell, scolding myself inwardly for my lapse in control.  
>'Unless you have a time machine and can take me back to seven o'clock this morning, then no, I don't believe there is.'<br>He was even closer now, his nose skimming over the line of my jaw and down my neck, not quite touching but making my traitor body tremble slightly. He noticed, of course he would notice, and he chuckled slightly.

'Are you _sure_?' Jace asked, still not quite touching me. When he said that, I had an almost overpowering need to pull his mouth to mine and kiss him senseless.

Oh crap, what was this guy _doing_ to me?

I sucked in my breath as a lock of his hair brush my shoulder, his nose and warm breath traveling back up my neck, ghosting by my ear.

'Because,' he whispered huskily, 'I've got something for you.'

My fists clenched and my teeth gritted. I pictured Simon's dark hair and dark eyes and crooked glasses and goofy grin, and began chanting his name over and over in my head.

'I don't think I want it,' I managed to force out and I was glad when my voice came steady. A breathy laugh sounded in my ear as Jace moved so that he was looking me directly in the eyes.

'Really?' he asked in that same, husky, sexy tone. Because, really, it was.

'Yes?'

It came out as a question and internally, I cringed. I blamed my stupid hormones and Jace's proximity. Both were messing with my head. Jace grinned, his perfectly shaped lips curving over his not-so perfect but charmingly crooked teeth in the most attractive grin and his eyes gleamed.

And then, he pulled back, sitting once again in his seat, his eyes still locked with mine. I felt the loss of his closeness immediately and barely stopped a sigh of relief.

'Because I thought that today might interest you,' Jace mused, smirking at me secretively. I frowned.

'It's Monday,' I said, 'There is nothing interesting about Mondays. Our mutual dislike of one another is all we share.'  
>My mind was still slightly frazzled from having Jace do his killer seduction act and I knew I was rambling. He smirked at me, then reached behind him to the backseat to pull what looked like a rolled up poster with a red ribbon tied around it. He weighed it in his hand for a moment, a look I couldn't recognize passing over his face so fast I was sure my eyes were lying to me. Then, he smirked again, his eyes softening a little as he held the poster out to me ceremoniously.<p>

'Happy three week anniversary, Lover,' he said, completely straight faced. At first, I felt shock, and then giggles rose up my throat and fell uncontrollably from my mouth. Because it was utterly ridiculous. Of course, if we were fake-dating, in a fake-relationship, why not have fake anniversaries. Fake fake fake. Everything about my social life nowadays seemed to be made up of that word.

Jace smirked at my reaction; obviously, he thought it was just as ridiculous as me.

Once I had recovered, I realised I should probably take the present.

I un-rolled it - and gasped. The poster was an old Mucha painting of a woman standing on her tip-toes, her long, pale red dress flying around her body by some wind. She looked over her shoulder, her back facing the front. She was in front of a sliver crescent that had small, intricate details all over it. Other, delicate looking patterns decorated the top half of the poster and her hair, long and brilliantly red flew and curled in the air.

It was so beautiful.

'Jace,' I breathed, my fingers skimming over the surface of the poster. It was so beautiful and thoughtful and -

That was all I got before a mixture of guilt and annoyance hit me.

So Jace bought me this wonderful present for our "anniversary" but, not only did I not have something for him, I hadn't even known it was occurring.

'You should have told me. I'm going to feel terrible for the rest of the day now, and people will think I don't love you.'  
>Jace's eyebrows rose.<p>

'You _don't_ love me,' Jace pointed out helpfully. Then he smirked. 'So, do you like it or not?'

I grinned at him, feeling a sudden rush of affection towards the infuriating boy.

'I love it,' I said truthfully, and, because I could see Isabelle walking towards the car from one direction and Simon from another I leaned forward and kissed him softly on the mouth. A familiar kind of warmth shot through me as I did so and it intensified when he let his fingers rest lightly against the edge of my jaw, a feather light caress that sent involuntary shivers down my spine. It was only the second time we had kissed properly and just like the first time, all that I was aware of was Jace's mouth, sweet against my closed lips.

We pulled apart, our eyes locking. My lips tingled and my ears burned slowly with my impending blush but Jace continued to stare at me, unrelenting, a slow kind of frown drawing his dark gold brows together. I didn't have time to ask him what was wrong because suddenly there was a tapping in my window.  
>Jace and I both started and I was freed from his intense gaze and turned to see both Isabelle and Simon frowning at us through the window. Still clutching the poster in my hand, I rolled the window down, grinning and blushing at the same time.<p>

Isabelle said, 'You two and your constant PDAs are making me sick.'

'We're not PDA-ing, Isabelle,' Jace drawled from beside me, 'You're stalking. I'm fairly sure that watching someone kiss their girlfriend in their car is stalking. Or just perverted. Really, I think the two go hand in hand. Oh, hello Rat-Boy.'

Simon scowled when Jace addressed him then looked to me, his eyes inspecting the poster I held in my hands.

'Is that a Mucha?' he asked and I grinned. So he did pay attention.

'Yup,' I said, holding it up for him to see. 'Jace gave it to me.'  
>As soon as I said that, Simon's eyes narrowed and he looked over at Jace, who just looked bored.<p>

'Well, who would have thought Pretty Boy had taste.'

Jace looked amused.  
>'If that comment was questioning my sexuality, I can assure you, Rat-Boy, that I am perfectly straight and therefore, not interested. You could try your luck with Magnus, but he'd probably just hit you.'<p>

'Enough,' Isabelle snapped in exasperation. She looked to me.

'Clary, control your boyfriend.'

I snorted, finally rolling the poster back up.

'Yeah, that'll happen,' I replied sarcastically as I placed the poster carefully back on the backseat and shouldered my bag, gesturing for Simon and Isabelle to move so I could get out of the car. I grabbed Simon's arm and pulled him along as I began to walk from the car.

'See you in English!' I shouted back to Jace, who had finally stepped from his car. He flashed me a grin, wiggling a few fingers at me. I blew him a kiss, smirking mockingly and he just poked his tongue out at me.

I turned back to Simon, who was regarding me with raised brows.

'What -?' I began but didn't finish because Simon had pulled suddenly away from me, slapping his palm to his forehead.

'Wait a second, I left my Science book in the van. I'll be right back,' he said, already jogging away from me toward his rotting-banana van. I stopped, taking  
>a step backwards so that I wasn't blocking the path-<p>

Only to have something solid and fast-moving connect with my head, sending me stumbling backwards, the back of my heel catching in the footpath and then I was falling, the ground rushing to meet me.

I slammed into it, landing hard on my shoulder and hip, grazing the palm of my hand. I gasped in shock and in pain, my uninjured hand flying to my throbbing forehead. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of white-blonde hair and a cold grin.

Jonathan Morgenstern.

There was a shout and running feet and then my dizzy vision was filled with Jace's concerned gold eyes. His hands closed lightly around my shoulders and suddenly he was pulling me to my feet. I let him, leaning momentarily into him to get my balance properly.

'Are you all right?' He asked me, ducking so he was almost eye to eye with me, his calloused hands ghosting over my shoulders and down my arms to hold my grazed hand in both of his. It was bloody and bits of dirt flecked skin curled back to reveal the tender, pinker flesh beneath.  
>Yuck.<p>

'Sorry about that, Clarissa!'

To anyone else, Jonathan would have been picture of sincerity as he called to me from across the small downward sloping hill that led to the school's entrance. I knew better though. Pretty much since Jace and my "date" Jonathan had taken to bullying me - making nasty remarks under his breath whenever he passed me, getting his girlfriend to push me up against the locker, send insulting notes. I hadn't told Simon, or my mum, or Jace for that matter but they knew something was up. I know they did.

Jace spun around when he heard Jonathan's voice and scowled before bending to pick up the football - so that's what whacked me - that rested just by our feet. He weighed it for a moment in his left hand before pulling his arm back and then pegging the ball with such force and speed back at Jonathan that when moved to close his hands around it, he came a fraction too late, so the ball slammed hard into his chest, causing him to stumble backwards a little before he managed to grasp it tightly in his hands.

'Watch where you throw your balls, Morgenstern,' Jace yelled mockingly. There was a smattering of laughter from some people nearby, causing Jonathan to scowl deeply and disappear into the midst of his glaring posse.

Jace smirked before turning back to me. He winced, his hand running lightly over my forehead.

'You're gonna have one hell of an egg on your head,' he told me. I rolled my eyes.

'Great,' I muttered, looking down at my feet so he wouldn't see that my eyes were watering. My head and shoulder and hip ached and my head stung and I was just so tired of all of it. 'It's the perfect look for our presentation today, don't you think?'  
>It was a rhetorical question and when I didn't look at him, Jace wrapped his arms around me and pulled me softly against his chest in a warm hug.<p>

'You sure you're ok?' He asked me. I rested my cheek against him because my forehead would have just sent another wave of pain through my cranium.

Blinking a few times until all traces of tears were gone and I was sure my voice would sound steady, I said,

'I'm fine, Jace.'

I pulled back, giving him a smile just as Isabelle came racing towards us, a stormy look on her beautiful face.

'Are you all right?' She demanded, glaring over at where Jonathan and co. were walking in towards the school. Her eyes widened when she saw my face.  
>'Bastard,' she muttered. Louder, she said,<p>

'Come on, let's get you cleaned up.'

She grabbed my wrist before I could reply and pulled me towards the school. I glanced behind me to see Jace frowning after the two of us, looking, if anything, a little confused and behind him was Simon, wearing an almost identical expression.  
>I didn't have time to wonder what it was about because Isabelle and I were suddenly in the cool hallway of the school, heading towards the bathroom.<br>I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and immediately turned away. There was an egg the size of a golf ball on the side of my forehead, colouring the spot a few interesting shades of blue and purple. Damn, the bastard got me good.  
>Belatedly, I realised I had unintentionally replaced Jace's nickname for Jonathan. It was more fitting on the creepy eyed bully, I thought.<p>

Isabelle stood before me, scrutinizing my face.

'Right,' she said, all business. 'Time to cover up that thing on your head.'

The 'thing' in question throbbed with a dull ache, but at least I knew I wouldn't have concussion. She stepped closer, lips pursing.  
>'I don't think covering it up with make-up will do. You'll just end up looking like you've got a tumour growing out of your head.'<p>

My eyebrows rose.

'Gee, thanks,' I said wryly. Isabelle ignored me, whipping a brush and comb and, inexplicably, a bottle of hair-spray from her bag. My eyes widened and I stepped backwards, the small of my back connecting with the row of sinks.

Nowhere to run.

Isabelle grinned wickedly - and pounced.

Somebody save me.

JPOV

The next time I saw Clary was recess. As she came towards ne, I realised what Isabelle had meant when she had told Clary to get cleaned up. Clary's hair, which had been pulled up in a messy bun this morning, was now flowing free around her face, artfully styled to hide the bruise on her head.  
>She looked wonderful.<p>

Before I could do anything, she was upon me, looking much happier than she had this morning.

'Hello,' she greeted me, bouncing up onto her tip-toes to peck me on the cheek. I grinned, linking my fingers through hers.

'Hello,' I replied as we began walking down the hall.

'I just need to grab something from locker,' she told me. 'Coming?'

I didn't have to answer, just let her pull me down the hallway towards her locker. I leant against the locker beside hers, watching as she fumbled with the lock. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Jonathan Morgenstern coming toward us.  
>And just as Clary's fingers closed around the handle of her locker, I saw his mouth lift upward into a cold smirk.<br>A sudden bang and a short, cut off yell filled my ears.

Clary was standing frozen, right where she had been, her locker door hanging open, only she was covered in bright red paint that stained her clothes and face and hair. Her shoulders shook and she spun around, her face a mask of desperate fury. She took a step toward Jonathan, who was laughing outright - and I finally understood the phrase 'seeing red'.

In a matter of seconds, Jonathan was slammed up against the lockers, my hands fisted in his jacket, a fury I didn't know I could possess burning within me.  
>I shook him, making his head smack against the metal of the lockers.<p>

'Who the _fuck_ do you think you are?' I hissed, my face inches from his. He leered at me, glancing over my shoulder at Clary. I didn't let my gaze deviate from his face.

'Jace...' I heard Clary say softly from behind me. I couldn't turn to look at her, too caught up in the rage I felt directed at the little dick head who hurt her twice in the same day. Jonathan glared up at me, something dark twisting in his eyes. Oh god, I wanted to hit him so badly.

'What's going on here?' A shrill voice cut through the tense silence of the hall. Hands on my shoulders were suddenly pulling me away from where I held Jonathan pinned. I shrugged violently away from whoever it was, but let go of the twerp. He continued to glare, straightening his jacket and shirt.  
>My voice came out low and menacing.<p>

'You stay away from her, Morgenstern. You stay away from her or I swear to god I'll beat you to a goddamn pulp.'

I wasn't threatening him. That would be illegal.

I was promising.

* * *

><p>So, protective Jace and bullying Jonathan, who would have guessed it? Hope you enjoyed it.<p>

Review = fabtasticalness

Blue.


	7. Chapter 7

_'You stay away from her, Morgenstern. You stay away from her or I swear to god I'll beat you to a goddamn pulp.'_

Jace's words echoed in my ears as I slowly and mechanically washed the red paint from my skin. My elbows shook as I leant my arms against the sink, staring blankly at my reflection in the mirror. Red tinged drops slid down my face. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hit something in a blind fury.  
>But I just felt tired.<p>

I stepped out of the girls' bathroom, not surprised to see Jace waiting beside the door. He was slouched lazily against the wall, looking cool, calm and collected and not as if he just threatened my tormentor with a pounding. But then again, I never said the boy wasn't a good actor. I stood beside him, his promise to Jonathan still bouncing through my ears.  
>I ran a hand through my damp hair.<p>

'Nice shirt,' he smirked, gold eyes appraising the tight red shirt Isabelle had given me. It had long sleeves and hugged the curves of my body, stopping mid-thigh, contrasting greatly with my old, frayed, paint-splattered jeans. I shook my head, sighing tiredly.

'I can drive you home, if you like,' he said, the smirk dropping from his face.

'I don't want to go home,' I said, my voice coming out as a whisper. He nodded, like he understood. He took my hand in his, holding it loosely. For a moment, I knew I should be wishing for Simon holding my hand, for Simon to be comforting me. But I pushed the thought aside. Jace and his big, calloused hand wrapped around mine was enough for me at the moment.

O.o

The splattering of polite applause that filled the classroom dragged me from the knot of nervous energy I'd tied myself into. Jace glanced at me, a small frown creasing his usually carefree brow. I gave him a small smile and the frown disappeared as quickly as it came.  
>He stepped back to centre stage, confident as always and said,<p>

'So, that was our presentation. Are there any questions?'

Of course, Jonathan raised his hand, his black, pit-less eyes sneering at me from the back if the room.  
>I saw Jace's shoulders stiffen as he spat out,<p>

'Jonathan.'

The single word had enough thinly veiled venom it could poison an elephant.  
>Jonathan lowered his hand, his eyes fixed on me as he spoke.<p>

'Don't you think the idea behind this is morally wrong? To play with another's emotions for your own ends is a terrible thing to do.'

His eyes never left me; it was like he was accusing me of something.

'The assignment was never about morals,' Jace answered, his voice cool and clipped with malice that only the students could hear. 'It was about selling the unsellable. Besides, both people knew what they were doing.'

Jonathan opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by the teacher.

'Hold on a moment, Jonathan,' he said before turning back to Jace and I. 'So, your idea behind this was to sell jealousy by having it as a dating service almost and I like that idea. It is fantastic. However, wouldn't there be the possibility of the two people falling for one another instead?'

His question surprised me and neither Jace nor I had anything to say. We had spent the better part of three weeks doing the assignment, based entirely on The Plan and it had never occurred to us that the teacher would ask such a question.

'But that would be imposs - '

I broke off, frowning. It couldn't be impossible because the exact thing was happening to me with Jace.

No! Simon, Simon, Simon. I was_ friends _with Jace and in love with Simon.

Duh.

'- improbable,' I amended. 'The two people only "date" the person they hate, thus making the person they love jealous.'

'But wouldn't it be possible for the two people, after spending such a long time together, to develop feelings for one another?'

I shifted uncomfortably, feeling my face begin to grow hot. His questions were planting seeds of doubt in my mind and that, coupled with the dull ache in my skull and Jonathan's poisonous glare, I was beginning to feel like I might pass out or puke or both.

Today just wasn't my day.

'How could two people who hate one another fall in love?' I asked, still frowning. The teacher just shrugged a mild, amused look on his face that said, _you tell me._  
>But how was I supposed to do that? It couldn't happen.<p>

No, it couldn't.

But as Jace and I took our seats I couldn't help but remember the electrifying heat of his lips that morning and the comforting warmth of his hand clasped around mine.  
>'He's just your friend, Clary,' I whispered to myself, careful not to let my shoulder brush his as I pulled my chair in.<br>It was then I realised Jace had not spoken a word since the teacher asked his question. I stole a sidelong glance to see his usual, bored expression fixed onto his face. But there was a tightness around his mouth and a stiffness to his shoulders that had not been there before.  
>With my throat closing up and my head spinning at the mirage of emotions this day had been, I focused on the next group presenting.<p>

And tried to forget all my doubts.

O.o

When the final bell rang I was up and out of my chair so fast I nearly tripped over. Simon, who was sitting next to me, grasped my elbow to steady me. His hand brushed the skin of my wrist as he pulled away and I frowned. Something was missing, but I didn't know what.

'You ok?' He asked, shoving his book carelessly into his bag. I nodded silently, a flash of blonde hair catching the corner of my eye. Jace. He was waiting outside, a curious look in his eyes.

'I'm fine,' I replied, shouldering my bag and joining the throng of eager students leaving the classroom. Simon followed close behind, and both he and Jace fell into step beside me silently. Like they were guarding me. Sweet. Kind of. Also slightly annoying. I could look after myself, thank you very much.

Isabelle flounced into view, looking at me with her dark, concerned eyes. We stopped by her locker, Jace and Simon still flanking me.

'You ok?' She asked, yanking hard on her locker door. I rolled my eyes.

'I'm fine,' I replied. 'But these two are driving me nuts.'

'What did I do?' Simon asked in honest surprise. I rolled my eyes again and gestured to the two of them.

'Although I _do_ appreciate the sentiment, I do have the ability to walk unguarded, you know. Just because Jonathan is being a dickhead doesn't mean I have to have you two substitute for bodyguards, ok?'

Jace muttered something under his breath, it sounded derisive. I snapped my head around to face him.

'What was that, Jace?' I asked, an icy tone to my voice.

Jace looked me square in the eye, and a single, amused eyebrow rose.

'I said, yes, because today's events are truly evident of your ability to care for yourself.'

'Oh, come off it Jace!' I retorted, anger rising up in me. 'I can look after myself just fine! I don't need you and Simon following me to every class or to every toilet break. Bloody hell, it's like you're stalking me or something.'

'We're trying to look after you so that psychopath doesn't hurt you again!' He shouted. I refused to flinch, even as Isabelle whispered something to Simon that sounded suspiciously like "Lover's spat" and pulled him away.

'And I appreciate that,' I shouted right back, 'but there's no need to freaking smother me!'

'Whatever, I don't have to deal with you and your feminist crap.' Jace spat and moved to storm away but I grabbed his arm, suddenly furious. A girl doesn't want to be smothered and suddenly she's labelled as unreasonable and a feminist. Well, maybe I'm a feminist but I'm an equality loving feminist. And hell if I'm going to let Jace be an ignorant pig about it.

'Don't you _dare_, Jace Wayland,' I hissed. 'Don't you dare be an ignorant pig on me or I swear to god-'

'You'll what?' He taunted, 'Break up with me?'

'It wouldn't matter if I did,' I replied furiously, ignoring the hurt both his and my words produced. It wouldn't matter, would it? It couldn't. No, it couldn't.

Something in Jace's eyes flashed then, something I couldn't read. It was a splintered kind of look, as if a window had fractured, and his emotions were like fractals spinning through the golden orbs of his eyes.  
>I knew then he was thinking about English and all the questions the stupid teacher asked.<p>

I let go of his arm, emotions that I really didn't want to identify clawing up my throat. He kept looking at me with that splintered look and it almost killed me. Slowly, he reached out and touched my cheek, the hard, calloused pads sending small little pinpricks of heat through my skin.

'I'm sorry,' we whispered in the same moment, so quietly that only our combined voices made it audible. Jace continued to brush his thumb across the skin of my cheek, the fractured look in his eyes slowly knitting back together until I couldn't see anything at all. His hand dropped away from my cheek to link through my fingers. We made our way to his car in silence, forgetting completely about Simon and Isabelle. He drove me home in silence, and I left him in silence.

Because there really was nothing we could say.

Not without breaking everything.

O.o

ONE WEEK LATER:

Clary jumped out of my car, grinning carefully as she pulled her bag over her shoulder. Everything about us seemed to to be careful now, we did not kiss one another openly, but made sure to show just enough affection for our peers to not be suspicious. We rarely went over to one another's house, and we had not been on a date.

We were afraid, and we both knew it.

I joined her as we made our way up to the school, linking my fingers through hers because I knew I should.

And not becase I wanted to.

O.o

CPOV

The day passed agonisingly slow, just as every other day this week had. Jace and I were strained with one another, argung more often, but being careful around each other at the same time. I knew I was afraid. I told myself I didn't know what I was afraid of.

Even though I did.

The final bell rang. I was catching a ride with Simon this afternoon. It was ridiculous how long it had been since I had spent time with him. I suppose having a fake-boyfriend will do that to you. I kissed Jace softly on the cheek as a goodbye and I left him by his car, waiting for Isabelle. I made my way slowly down the path, the car park was nearly deserted. In the distance, I could see Simon leaning against his rotten banana van but he was still a while away. He was late to school, apparently, so he was unable to get a good park.

Just I was passing the edge of the school grounds, a hand closed around my wrist, yanking me behind the school building and slamming me up against the hard brick wall.

'I know what you're up to,' A voice hissed in my ear.

My blood ran cold as I recognised it immediately.

Jonathan Morgenstern, what a surprise.

'Let. Go. Of. Me,' I spat out, shoving against him. To my surprise, he did. His dark eyes never left me, their depths burning with loathing and disgust.

'I know what you're doing to Jace.' He snarled. 'I know you don't love him.'

I stared at him, utterly bewildered. 'Look, fuck off, Jonanthan. I don't have to deal with your crap.'

I moved to shove past him but he grabbed my wrist again, gripping it with bruising pressure. He slammed me once more against the bricks, so hard my back scraped against the rough surface, stinging my shoulders. He pressed his body hard against mine, his nose almost touching my own. I thrashed against him, but his legs had mine pinned and he was using his extra weight to press me hard against the wall, pretty much restricting all movement.

'No, you listen to me, you dirty fucking _whore,'_ He snarled, spittle landing on my cheek. I flinched, attempting to turn my face from him. He reached up with his free hand and grasped my jaw, digging his fingernails into the skin there, and forced my face back to him. Fear tightened in my stomach.

'You stay the hell away from Jace Wayland or I'll fucking kill - '

He never finished his sentence because all of a sudden, he was being wrenched away from me. Then there was the dull thump of a fist connecting with skin and Jace was standing over Jonathan, a look of pure fury burning in his eyes.

'I told you to stay away from her, Morgenstern,' He said, his voice quiet and dangerous. Jonathan stared up at him, blood spilling from his split lip, his eyes watering. He looked...heartbroken.

What the hell was with this guy?

Suddenly, Jonathan was on his feet, his arm flying so fast through the air Jace didn't have time to duck. The other boy's fist connected solidly with his jaw, sending him spinning back against the wall beside me. Before I had a chance to do anything, Jonathan had grabbed Jace by the front of his shirt and -

Smashed his lips to Jace's in a desperate, passionate kiss.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Yelena Herondale<strong> and **chasing down a daydream **guessed it! Hahaha, whatever shall happen in the next chaper I wonder?_

_Sorry for not updating in forever, but...well, there you go :P_

_Reviews = abfabiness _

_Blue._


	8. Chapter 8

My mind was reeling. One minute, I was filled with a murderous rage. Jonathan was hurting Clary again, and this time, it was more than just a few pranks.

The next, I was slammed up against the wall beside Clary and Jonathan was forcing his mouth on mine.

For a moment, I was frozen. It was all kinds of wrong, and not just because it was Jonathan kissing me. It was like pure loathing pulsed through his mouth and into mine, but at the same time, a feeling of fierce longing was present in the way he crushed his face against mine and a desperate kind of hope.

And then I came back to life.

I raised my hand and shoved against Jonathan's shoulders with such force he stumbled and almost fell. I, too, stumbled away from the wall; I rested my fists on my knees, breathing hard. Not many things could surprise me. But that?

'What the _hell_ was that?' I demanded of Jonathan, who was staring at me with a look of dawning horror. His black eyes were wide, his mouth swollen and open. A little to the left, I could see Clary staring at the both of us, her mouth agape, leaning against the wall for support. I noticed she was holding her wrist to her chest.

'I – you – I mean…' Jonathan's voice was broken and quiet. He stared at me, and just kept staring, seemingly unable to believe what it was he had done.

Clary didn't move from her place by the wall, but I heard her strong, unwavering voice anyway.

'He's in love with you, Jace.'

And even though it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard, I knew it was true. Everything that Jonathan had been doing to Clary this past month had been because of jealousy. It was ironic really; I had thought he was jealous of Clary. Who wouldn't be? But no, it was me all along. He hurt her and probably many others _because of me_.

'Of course he is,' I snap out, allowing a little of my usual sarcastic nature to seep into my tone. 'But that doesn't mean he had the right to assault you. Show me your hand.'

'What?' Clary blinked, moving her wrist behind her back. I glared at her impatiently.

'Show. Me. Your. Hand.'

'Jace – '

'He hurt you. That's not a very nice thing to do, Jonathan.' I turned my attention back to the pale boy. His black eyes were frantic with fear. It was like everything about him had shrunk, had been crushed as soon as Clary spoke. 'And whatever it is that you're feeling, Jonathan, it's not love. It's obsession.'

That seemed to be that last straw. Jonathan leapt at me, fist swinging wildly, a crazed, desperate look in his eyes. I ducked easily, catching his fist in my own. Quick as anything, he brought his other fist up to my stomach. I let him go in surprise.

'_I'm not gay_!' He screamed at me, his voice cracking. I deflected his next blow, disbelief surging through me.

'Oh, I beg to differ, Morgenstern.'

He let out a howl and threw himself away from me, lunging instead at Clary, who stumbled back.

'This is all your fault,' he screamed, and he was moving too fast, I wasn't going to save her in time –

The unexpected occurred. Clary's small fist snapped out, catching Jonathan on the chin and then her foot kicked out, slamming into Jonathan's shin. He gasped in pain and shock, faltering just long enough for me to grab him by his shirt, restraining him. I stared at Clary in surprise, and her expression mirrored mine as she stared down at her closed fist.

I looked down to see that Jonathan had slipped from my grip and was kneeling on the ground, his shoulders shuddering with sobs. My gaze moved back to Clary, whose eyes now held traces of sympathy. Fuck, why did she have to be such a good person?

She stared at me with those big, green eyes, the message clear. I felt my shoulders sag. I moved around to stand in front of Jonathan.

'Look, Morgenstern,' I said. 'I think maybe you're confused at the moment. Maybe you should get some help. Talk to someone or, uh, something.'

Internally, I winced. Reaching out to my girlfr – _my fake-girlfriend's_ tormentor was not something I was comfortable with. At all. Whatsoever. I glanced behind me at Clary who urged me on silently with her eyes. Bloody hell, the things I do for this girl…

'I don't love you, Jonathan. And I'm not sorry for that. But you seriously need to figure out what the hell it is you're doing, if not for yourself but for everybody else who has to deal with your crap.'

Suddenly, his head shot up. His face was not creased with tears, as I had imagined, but dry, his eyes as black and broken as ever.

'You're not going to tell anyone, are you?' His voice came out as a cracked whisper and I felt a small spark of sympathy. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and I hated myself for it.

I rocked back, looking down at him with disdain.

'I should. It's what you deserve,' I said, my voice cold and unfeeling. I saw panic flash through his eyes. 'But I'm not going to. Because Clary, the girl you've been tormenting these past few weeks, would never forgive me if I did. So I suggest you just mull that over for a while, see what kinds of epiphanies can come from having someone be empathetic despite every single shit-faced thing you have done.'

And with that, I gently took Clary by the elbow and we left Jonathan Morgenstern as he crouched on the ground and tried not to think about the shattered, messed up heart we were leaving behind.

O.o

I walked Clary out back into the parking lot. I could feel her shaking slightly beneath my hand, but I knew she would never admit she had been afraid back there. Not even for a minute.

We stopped halfway between Simon's car and my own. I could see her casting furtive glances in both my direction and Simon's. I took her hand in mine, the one that Jonathan had grabbed. And, consequently, the one she had decked him with.

The knuckles were red and so was her wrist. Slowly, I lifted her hand to my mouth and gently pressed a kiss to each knuckle, ignoring her small gasp of surprise. I slowly dropped her hand back to her side, avoiding her green eyes.

'Are you ok?' Her soft voice asked me, concern for me plain in her tone and the way she tried to catch my eyes.

'I'm fine,' I replied, seeing Simon making his way over to us slowly. Too late, Rat-Boy, I thought with a tinge of anger. Hadn't he seen Clary get pulled off the path? What a dick-head. Sometimes I just didn't understand how she could be in love with such a blind fool.

Clary didn't look like she believed me, and she would be right. It was like fury and confusion had tied them into a knot inside my stomach and refused to untangle. I didn't understand it. How could Jonathan…love me? I hated the thought of it, but not in the way you would suspect. I had nothing against homosexuals, my best friend was one. No, the thing that had me shaken was the hate that had poured from Jonathan when he kissed me, as if he loathed both himself and me for the feelings he had. Just thinking about it left a sick, metallic feeling in my mouth.

Clary lifted her hand and gently captured my chin between her finger and thumb, gently brushing her other fingers across the skin of my aching jaw.

She locked her eyes with mine, daring me to glance away.

'Jace, don't be stubborn,' She said in a soft, exasperated tone.

'Clary, don't be nosy,' I replied, imitating her tone mockingly.

Clary pulled back, a look of hurt flashing through her eyes so quickly I almost didn't catch it. Almost.

She opened her mouth as if to reply when Rat-Boy finally made it over.

'Clary?' He said, looking between us. 'What're you doing?'

I saw a flicker of annoyance in Clary's eyes as she turned to Simon. I wondered if she was thinking the same thing I had just moments before.

'I was just talking to Jace. I'll meet you at the car.' She smiled as she brushed him off, turning back to me with a determined look in her eyes. Simon retreated quickly, sending me a look over his shoulder that made a pang of regret shoot through me. He didn't look jealous; he just looked concerned for his friend. Oh Clary, I'm so sorry.

But I wasn't. Not really.

'Look, Jace – ' she broke off, biting her lip. A little of the conviction left her eyes before she took a steadying breath and glanced away. 'If you need to, give me a ring. Ok?'

'You'll be at Simon's,' I pointed out. At my words, she looked me straight in the eyes.

'I'll answer anyway,' she said, her voice strong, and steady. Then her blazing eyes softened. 'I will, If you need me, Jace. I promise.' Then she kissed me quickly on the cheek and hurried to where Rat-Boy waited.

I turned and made my way back to my car, Clary's promise ringing in my ears.

O.o

I didn't call Clary that night, and we didn't discuss what had happened the next day at school.

Jonathan laid off Clary, and he didn't speak to me.

It was like nothing had ever happened.

O.o

It was a Friday and I was standing outside Simon's door, waiting patiently for someone to answer. Yesterday, he and I had made plans to hang out before I went on my "date" with Jace. Jace and I were planning on going to the movies and if Jace had been upset that I wouldn't be spending the entire afternoon with him, he didn't show it.

Simon hadn't been at school today, I suspected he had actually conned a day off so he didn't have to hand in his unfinished maths assignment. This also meant I had to suffer alone in the dreaded class. He was definitely going to pay.

The door opened, interrupting me from my thoughts. I blinked and focused on Mrs. Lewis, Simon's mother, smiling at me politely from the doorway.

'Clary!' She exclaimed, a slightly confused look in her eyes. 'What a surprise. I haven't seen you in ages!'

I grinned, even if her surprise at my arrival was slightly confusing. Hadn't Simon told her I was coming?

'I've been a bit…busy,' I said as she let me inside. 'Simon and I were going to hang out this arvo. Didn't he tell you?'

Mrs. Lewis shook her head. 'It must have slipped his mind. But he and his other friend are up in his room.' As she turned to leave, I frowned. Other friend? If it were Eric or Matt, she would have said so. Who then?

I slowly climbed the stairs, and came to Simon's door. I took a breath, suddenly nervous. Why? I have no idea.

Taking a breath, I turned the door knob, quietly pushing the door open – and saw everything Jace and I had worked for these past weeks crumble before my eyes.

Simon was standing in the middle of the room locked in a passionate embrace. For a moment I did not recognise the girl whose face was locked with his, and then the long black hair and tall, willowy figure registered.

Isabelle Lightwood.

My mouth opened in shock but no words came out. It was as if something great and heavy was crushing my chest, restricting my breathing. I stumbled back, wanting to leave as quietly as possible, but my arm hit the door and it slammed against the wall with a loud bang, causing Simon and Isabelle to spring apart in surprise. They stared at me, mouths open, eyes wide and I stared back.

'Clary – ?' Simon began, a frown of confusion on his face. And then realisation dawned. He took another step forward, arm outstretched, but I was already stumbling backwards again. I opened my mouth once, twice, but when nothing came out I turned and sprinted down the stairs and out of the house, Simon's shouts following me the whole way.

Only two thoughts were in my head as I ran from Simon's house and onto the street.

One was: _I can't believe it._

The other: _I have to tell Jace_.

O.o

Jace looked up as I burst into his room, huffing and nearly falling over.

'Well hello, Lover. I didn't know you were this excited for our date tonight.'

I bent over, leaning on my knees, gasping for breath and shook my head, still unable to fill my lungs properly. I had sprinted all the way to Jace's house, nearly twenty minutes from Simon's. He got slowly to his feet, seeming to sense that something wasn't right.

'Clary? Clary what's wrong?' His big hands came down on my shoulders, his concerned gold eyes filling my gaze.

'It's over, Jace,' I gasped. 'It's over.'

And then, I told him everything I had seen. I felt a few tears slide down my cheeks by the time I had finished but I wiped them brusquely away. What was the point in crying?

We ended up lying side by side on his bedroom floor, the sides of our heads touching. I didn't know how long we laid there for, just gazing at the blank ceiling, wallowing in our own self-pity. I knew my heart was broken, but with Jace, it wasn't so bad. Our English teachers question floated, unbidden into my mind. I didn't want to think about that.

Suddenly, I sat up.

'I hate it.' I burst out. Jace sat up as well, staring at me with raised eyebrows and splintered eyes.

'What?'

'Your room,' I said, standing up in sudden agitation. 'I hate your room. It's too blank. It's horrible.'

Jace stood up slowly, staring at my sudden outburst.

'Well, I'm sorry if it offends you, Lover.' He drawled sarcastically. But I wasn't listening.

'I'll be back in twenty minutes,' I said, 'I want you to move your drawers and desks out of here and cover your bed with a garbage bag.'

'What? Why?' Jace demanded, scrambling to follow me as I ran out of his room.

'Just do it! I'll be back soon!' I shouted, grabbing his car keys from the kitchen bench and running from his house.

O.o

Twenty minutes later I returned to Jace's apartment with seven buckets of paint in the boot. He ran out to meet me, looking positively livid.

'You stole my car! Bloody hell, Clary – '

'Oh shut up and give me a hand,' I interrupted irritably, popping the boot open. Jace grumbled slightly and followed me around to the boot. He stared at the buckets of paint, and then at me and then at the buckets of paint again.

'Clary, whatever it is you think I'm going to let you do – '

'Do you have a drop sheet?' I interrupted again, grabbing two buckets of paint. Jace stared at me like I had gone mad.

'What? Why on Earth would I have a drop-sheet?'

'I don't know,' I retorted. 'Why do you have _two_ black-boards?'

Jace opened his mouth to reply but I shoved past him and bounded up the stairs toward his apartment. After a few moments I heard him following. We made two more trips back down to the car before all the buckets of paint were deposited in his room. He had followed my instructions carefully, with his bedside table, desk, and drawer in the hallway and two large garbage bags covering his bed. Now the only thing that needed to be protected was the polished hard-wood floors.

'No drop sheet,' Jace said in an "I told you so" tone. I chewed on the inside of my cheek.

'Well, do you have any newspaper? And masking tape?'

Jace nodded and backed out of his bedroom. Three minutes later he was back with a huge stack of old newspaper and a thick roll of masking tape placed daintily on top. He dumped the newspaper carelessly on the bed but when I moved to grab one, he blocked my way, forcing me to make eye contact.

'Clary,' he said in exasperation. 'What are you doing?'

I swallowed against the sudden burning of tears at the back of my throat. What was I doing? I was trying to forget.

'Can we paint one of your walls?' I asked, blinking up at him. He faltered and then paused, closing his eyes against me for a moment. And then he nodded silently and I ran from the room, coming back a little later with his stereo and T. Rex CD. He chuckled when he saw it and murmured something along the lines of "I should have known". Then he grabbed the mess of newspapers and began taping them to the floor.

I ran back to the car and grabbed a few paint brushes I had brought from my house and by the time I was back, Jace had finished laying down the newspaper. I handed him a large paint brush and opened a bucket of sky-blue paint.

'You ready?' I asked him. He turned the music on in answer.

I dipped my paint brush into the bucket then drew a single diagonal blue line from the bottom corner of the wall to as high as I could reach on the opposite side. Jace cracked open the bucket of green paint and splattered it all over the wall. Soon we were throwing paint against the wall, letting out our heartbreak and frustration and confusion and anger out against the previously white wall. Soon we settled down, and our shouts were replaced with laughter.

I drew a stitched together heart on one side of the wall and Jace painted a few lightning bolts shooting from the corner of the wall. We painted flowers and birds and a TARDIS and fish and trees and people running and dancing.

Jace dipped his hand into a bucket of red paint and began chasing me around the room. He caught me in the end, and covered my cheek and arm in red paint. I grabbed a paint brush and before he could react, painted a strip of bright pink down the side of his face and down his neck. Soon we were as paint covered as the wall.

Suddenly, Jace grabbed my arms and began to twist and dance. I laughed and laughed and so did he until I felt like my sides were about to split in half.

'_You're dirty, sweet and you're my girl_,' we sang along to the CD completely out of tune, even though I knew Jace had an at least half-decent voice.

'_Get it on, bang a gong, get it on!_'

I painted the lyrics onto the wall in bright thick purple paint, the same paint that decorated Jace's hair. Then I dipped my hand in the red paint bucket and brought it to the centre of the wall and pressed it against the wall, leaving a red print of my small hand behind. Jace did the same, only with gold paint (go figure). The print of his hand made my own look tinier than usual with his big palm and long, elegant pianist fingers.

Using black paint, we wrote our names and the date underneath the prints, finally stepping back to examine our handy work. Every inch of the wall was covered with colours. And in the very centre were the prints of our hands with our names written carefully beneath. Jace slipped his fingers through mine without looking at me and I clung to them with my own.

'What do we do now?' I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

'I don't know, Clary,' he replied softly. I didn't have to look at him to know that his eyes held the same splintered look they had held that day at school, when we had been arguing.

The CD clicked off and began to play again.

O.o

We did not end up going to the movies. We stayed in his room and constructed a cubby house made of sheets and pillows. We kept the "door" open so we could gaze upon our masterpiece of a wall and pulled the stereo in. It played softly in the background, a multitude of artists singing on a seemingly never ending playlist. In reality, I knew it was just a mixed disc that Jace had created a couple of months ago, but it didn't matter. Reality wasn't really what we were looking for at the moment, anyway.

We didn't bother to wash the paint off ourselves. I didn't have clean clothes to change into and I honestly didn't mind looking like a walking rainbow. And it definitely suited Jace. When I told him so, he simply replied, "Honey, everything suits me".

It was comforting to know that despite everything, Jace's arrogant personality remained.

We talked about nothing for hours, always skirting the things that were important and focusing on the things that weren't.

Simon and Isabelle, for example, were subjects that were skirted.

Whether or not the Doctor would beat Gandalf in a fight, were subjects that were focused on.

Of course, one could argue that finding out whether the Doctor would beat Gandalf in a battle was, in fact, highly important.

We talked and talked until there was nothing left to say and then we just lay in our cubby, side by side, watching the colours on his newly painted wall and finding new pictures inside the pictures already there.

I felt safe with Jace, and happy, even though I knew I should be miserable. After all, the boy I thought I loved for ten years was with another girl.

But honestly, the hurt wasn't so bad.

* * *

><p><em>There you go! Hope you guys liked it!<em>

_Simon and Isabelle, what have you been up to? hahaha._

_Two more chapters left, guys, and then this story will be finished!_

_Reviews = wonderfulness_

_Blue :)_

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments Series.**


	9. Chapter 9

I woke up slowly to the feel of something heavy and warm around me. My eyes opened to meet blurry colours of pink and purple, green and blue.

But mostly gold.

I closed my eyes again, moving closer to the heat source warming half my body. After a while, my eyes opened again, just as slowly, focusing on the splatters of colours. Something rumbled and tightened around me.

It was then I realised my heat source was a living being. Jace, to be exact. I started in surprise, but did not move from where my head rested on his arm. His tawny eyes opened slowly, a lazy smile (not a smirk) curved his lips. I stared at him, my eyes wide as I continued to assess our situation. We were pressed right up against one another, both lying on our side, my head using one of his arms as a pillow, his other draped around me, radiating with a comforting warmth. Our foreheads were bent towards one another, our faces so close I could feel each soft, warm exhalation of breath.

The soft light from the lamps we set up in and around the cubby house gave everything a soft yellow glow.

The music still hadn't stopped playing.

I was the first to speak.

'When did we fall asleep?' I asked softly. Jace didn't look away.

'I'm not sure,' he replied, just as softly. 'A while ago.'

We did not speak again for a little, still slightly fogged over from sleep.

I still could not believe that Isabelle and Simon were…together, but I wasn't as crushed as I had originally thought I would be. Earlier, I think I was so desperately sad because, subconsciously, I was _telling_ myself that that was how I should react.

And now I was beginning to wonder if I was still in love with Simon at all.

Because, in the warmth of Jace's arms in a cubby house made of pillows and sheets, in front of a wall covered in paint and pictures of heartbreak and loss and love and science fiction and with the soft murmur of music embracing us both, I felt safe. I felt happy.

'You should probably give your mum a call,' Jace said, his soft murmur interrupting my thoughts.

'I know,' I replied.

Neither of us moved. Well, we didn't move _away_ from one another.

'Jace…' I began after a while, but the rest of my words faded off into my throat. Jace was staring at me, his gold eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. The splintered look no longer held residence in his eyes, they were full and whole and holding an emotion I dare say was mirrored in my own eyes. I just didn't know what it was yet.

'Clary,' he breathed, his hand twisting to play with a strand of my hair.

Even now, I don't know which of us moved first but all of a sudden his soft, soft lips were pressed against mine in the sweetest, most passionate kiss either of us had ever shared. All thoughts flew from my head as I was consumed by the smell of Jace and his taste and his lips and his warmth. My heart seemed to swell inside my chest until I was sure my rib-cage would simply crack and crumble under its mass.

Because this, _this kiss_, was the kind I had dreamed of. The kind of kiss that made you forget your name and made your hands shake and made your heart pound and swell.

We pulled slowly apart, our eyes wide with shock.

I was breathing hard, my heart still pounding in my chest, not fully recovered from the kiss when Jace pulled away from me, crawling out of the cubby and moving to stand in front of the wall, looking down at me with a torn expression on his face. But the splintered look hadn't returned.

'What are you – '

'I love you, Clary,' Jace blurted suddenly and then closed his mouth very tightly, as if he was afraid the words would jump back down his throat if he didn't.

I felt my heart trip over a beat, stop, and then remember that beating was for good and picked up double time. Did those words just leave his mouth? Was I hearing things?

'Jace –' I began; then broke off, suddenly unable to voice my whirling thoughts.

'And I know you love Simon. I don't know why you do, but I know it. But I just thought you should know that you've got someone who loves you back standing right in front of you. I just – I love you, Clary. I love you now, and I'll love you until the day I die and if there's life after that, I'll love you then.' Even tripping over his own words to get them out of his mouth, he was eloquent.

I didn't speak this time, just crawled slowly from the cubby house to stand in front of him. I couldn't really believe what I was hearing. He watched me warily, like he was afraid of me.

Or of what I could say.

And then, for the first time in my life, I saw Jace's courage falter and he threw himself away from me, shaking his head in disbelief. He turned towards the painted wall, leaning his head against the now dry surface. The light from the moon streamed in through the window, fading as it met the walls of our own soft, artificial light.

'I shouldn't have told you like that. I shouldn't have told you at all.'

His words struck a sadness inside me that I didn't know I could possess. It was a strange kind of sadness, considering it was slightly mixed with a kind of floaty joy. Silently, I moved to stand beside him, taking his wrist and placing his hand over the gold imprint. I placed my hand over the red imitation of my own and looked at him, suddenly knowing exactly what to say.

And then the sound of a fist banging against wood screwed up all my words.

I tried to speak, wanting to ignore it but Jace pulled away from me.

'That'll be your mum, Clary.'

His voice was dull, his eyes blank. I felt tears claw up my throat. No words came out when I opened my mouth. I wanted to rewind time until we were lying in the cubby house again, kissing even though we didn't know why; I wanted to throw my arms around him and hold him tight against me, because I _loved him too_, damn it.

My hand reached out –

But it was too late. My mum and Dorothea came into the room. Mum spoke of leaving, Dorothea remarked on our clothes and on the beautiful mural, but it didn't matter because my eyes were locked on Jace's and they weren't whole and full and mirroring the emotion in my own eyes. They weren't even splintered. They were blank and unfeeling. My mother tugged my sleeve but I couldn't look away from his blank gold stare.

Because the music had stopped playing.

And everything seemed broken.

O.o

I had thought when Clary had burst into my room and told me all about Isabelle and Rat-Boy, that I would be crushed.

But what I expected to feel was nothing compared to the utter helpless, shattering pain that wracked my entire body when Clary didn't say she loved me back.

I watched as her mother lead her from my room, from my apartment, from my building.

It didn't matter anymore.

Because the music had stopped playing.

And everything seemed broken.

O.o

Simon mounted the steps to Clary's apartment slowly. Ever since she had burst in on him and Isabelle kissing yesterday, he had been unable to erase the utter look of shock and betrayal that had morphed her features. Isabelle had seen it too (how could she not?) and they both agreed that Simon would to talk to Clary, and Isabelle would talk to Jace. Explain why they did what they did.

Jocelyn let Simon in quietly. Her face looked pale and strained. In the back ground, Simon could hear music playing.

'I'm glad you're here, Simon,' Jocelyn murmured. 'There's something wrong with Clary. Maybe you can talk to her?'

Simon's stomach clenched. Had his and Isabelle's secrecy affected her that much? Before he could let the guilt take him over completely, he nodded silently to Jocelyn and made his way towards Clary's room. As he got closer, he could make out the words of the music blaring inside the room.

'_Let's dance to Joy Division.'_

He placed his hand on the door knob.

'_And celebrate the irony.'_

He pushed the door open and gasped. Clary was dancing in the middle of the room, spinning, whirling, and singing. It didn't seem like anything was wrong.

'_Cause everything's gone so wrong. But we're so happy.' _

'Clary?'He said, trying to be heard over the crazy–loud music. She didn't hear him and continued dancing, her back to him.

'…_I've found the cure for a broken heart.'_

'Clary?' He shouted over the music. This time she stopped and spun around, her eyes widening when she saw him.

'_Let it tear us apart.'_

Simon's breath caught in his throat because he was very wrong, and Clary was very much not all right. Tears tracked down her cheeks in a continuous flow, her eyes were red and puffy and her hair was a mess. She looked heartbroken.

Hell, she just looked _broken_.

He moved quickly forward, turning the music down as he went.

'Clary, what are you doing?' He asked, unable to hide the shock in his tone. She blinked at him, and then stared at her iPod, which was now only emitting background noises.

'I'm dancing to Joy Division.'

Her voice was crackly, like she'd spent too much time crying, but she still managed to look at him as if her statement was obvious.

'That's not Joy Division, Clary,' he said, taking a step towards her. 'That's The Wombats _singing_ about dancing to Joy Division.' She opened her mouth as if to argue then just flopped backwards onto her bed, arms outstretched.

'Whatever,' she sighed, her tone uneven. 'Who listens to Joy Division anyway?'

Simon moved to sit beside her, feeling the knot inside his stomach decrease a little. Whatever was wrong with Clary, it didn't have to do with him and Isabelle.

'Clary, what's wrong? If it's about yesterday with Izzy and I – '

'It's not you and Isabelle, Simon,' she cut him off, leaping suddenly off the bed, her eyes wide and furious and broken. 'It's everything. I screwed everything up. He said he loved me and I didn't say anything back and now he thinks I'm still in love with you and _everything's broken_, Simon!' And then it was as if everything left her. She crumpled to the ground in a heap, her breath coming in short little gasps.

_He thinks I'm still in love with you._

Those words reverberated inside his head as he moved slowly to crouch by his sobbing friend. _She was in love with me?_ He thought, moving a hand to rest it comfortingly on her shoulder.

'I'm hurting, Simon. In my chest. It just doesn't go away.'

His friend's whispered confession nearly tore him to pieces. Any thoughts he had about her previous words were pushed roughly to the side as he swept her up into a comforting hug.

'Oh Clary,' he whispered as she cried silently into his shoulder.

When she was done, she pulled back, wiping her cheeks ashamedly with the back of her hand. He caught her eyes and smiled softly.

'Take a breath,' he said, 'order your words, and tell me what happened. Start to finish.'

Clary did as he said, taking a deep, shaking breath and then words were spilling from her mouth as she hiccupped her way through her story.

Simon's eyes widened as Clary told him of The Plan, and the fact that she had been in love with him for nearly five years.

And then she told him of how she started to fall for Jace, despite everything. And then yesterday, when she had run in on him and Isabelle kissing in his room. Simon winced; he still could not believe he had forgotten Clary was coming over. And then she told him everything she and Jace had done that afternoon, and how they fallen asleep together and kissed.

And how Jace had told her he loved her.

And she hadn't known what to say back.

'I broke his heart, Simon,' she hiccupped.

'Have you tried calling him?' Simon asked.

'I called three times last night and four times today. He didn't answer.'

Simon felt a little bristling of anger at that. Could the arrogant prick not even deign to answer the phone? Bloody hell, he wasn't even giving her a chance.

'Do you love him?' He asked, trying not to think about how gross it made him feel.

'Yes,' she whispered, averting her eyes.

Simon touched his index finger to her chin, gently pulling her face back to his so he could fix her gaze with his own.

'Then you should go to his house and tell him so.'

For the first time that day, Clary smiled.

O.o

Dorothea let Isabelle silently into the apartment. Her eyes were grave, her mouth turned down at the corners.

'Is he ok?' Isabelle asked, guilt twisting in her stomach. She knew she should have told Jace immediately about her relationship with Simon but…the secrecy was too exciting.

Dorothea shook her head dolefully. 'He's been in his bedroom all night, all day, just playing one song over and over. I'm going crazy, but he won't tell me what's wrong. He hasn't even cleaned his room.'

Isabelle frowned. Jace was completely anal when it came to cleanliness. She wanted to know why his room was messy in the first place. Slowly, she made her way to Jace's room, stopping when she reached the door. Music blared from behind the wood.

'_Let's dance to Joy Division._'

She placed her hand on the doorknob warily.

'_And raise our glass to the ceiling._'

Slowly, she pushed the door open. What she saw made her jaw drop to the floor. The room was dark except for a circle of soft yellow lamps around a makeshift cubby house. The light from the lamps illuminated a wall that was covered in painted pictures that seemed to shout and cry and weep and laugh at her as she continued to stare. It was just so…raw, as if someone had simply thrown their emotions into the paint.

'_Cause this could all go so wrong but we're so happy.'_

Isabelle picked her way slowly through Jace's usually spotless room until she found the door to the cubby, which happened to be right in front of the beautiful mural. She crouched down and saw Jace lying on his back, covered almost entirely in paint. It was in his hair, on his face, covering his clothes. He opened his eyes when she crawled in beside him and simply stared at her, his gold eyes blank. She had never seen Jace look that way, had never seen him look as…empty as in that moment and it twisted her heart to see.

'Jace?' She asked quietly. 'What are you doing?'

'I'm listening to Joy Division,' he replied in what would usually be a 'duh' kind of tone. Now, it was just dead.

'This,' Isabelle pointed out, 'is not Joy Division. This is The Wombats_ singing_ about Joy Division.'

Jace returned his gaze to the make-shift ceiling. 'Same difference,' he said in the same dead tone of before. 'Who listens to Joy Division anyway?'

Isabelle rolled her eyes but persisted. 'Jace, what's wrong? Your room's a mess, _you're_ a mess, and Dorothea says you haven't come out of your room all day – what's going on? I mean, I'm guessing Clary told you about Simon and me and if that's what's got you so – '

'What's that about, by the way? Since when are you into Rat-Boy?'

Isabelle frowned slightly. Jace's tone was simply curious, not as if he were worried or betrayed or anything. So what they hell was bugging him? She looked away from him, a little nervously; then fixed him with her best glare.

'His name is Simon. And you know it.'

'And I also know you're avoiding the subject.'

Isabelle rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. 'We got together a little after you and Clary did –' Isabelle didn't miss the slight tightening around the corners of Jace's mouth when Clary was mentioned. So that's what was wrong. '- and we decided to keep it secret for a while.'

'For a month,' Jace corrected, his voice dull.

'For a month,' Isabelle echoed, almost bashfully.

They were silent for a while until the song finished and began again.

'What's wrong, Jace?' Isabelle asked. 'Is it Clary?'

There was a pause. Jace wasn't the most forth-coming person so when he nodded and suddenly began to speak, she knew that it was hitting him and it was hitting him _hard_.

'I told her I loved her. And she just – she just kind of stared at me, like she didn't know what to say. And then her mum came and took her home before _I_ could say anything else.'

'Has she tried to call?'

'Yes.'

He pulled his mobile from his pocket and thrust it into Isabelle's hands. She scrolled down the missed calls. There were seven all up from Clary.

'Why didn't you answer?'

'Why do you think?' He retorted, still staring blankly at the roof of the cubby house.

'Because you're a cowardly bastard?' Isabelle asked quaintly, glaring down at her best friend with raised brows. Jace snapped his face around to stare at her, his eyes wide with shock and indignation.

'What?' He demanded, sitting bolt upright to glare at his friend.

'You heard me,' Isabelle said, scowling. 'Next time she calls, answer the phone. If you don't I'll kill you, because I don't think it's all what you believe it to be, Jace.'

Jace frowned and took his phone from Isabelle.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean,' Isabelle sighed, 'That I've seen the way Clary looks at you. Even when you guys argue she's got this look in her eyes…like even though you drive her completely insane, she loves you anyway. I mean, even the barest touch between the two of you is like everyone can feel the electricity crackling. I think you've got to give her a chance, Jace. Or you'll regret it.'

Jace closed his eyes, clutching the phone tightly in his paint covered hand, as if willing the phone to ring. Isabelle smiled and bounced forward, wrapping her arms around his strong frame.

There was a brief hesitation and then he hugged her back.

'Thanks, Izzy,' he whispered in her ear.

She smiled softly against his shoulder.

'No problem,' she murmured in reply. Then she pulled away, grinning lightly. 'Although, you should probably go have a shower because you really kind of stink.'

He was about to reply when there was a sudden knocking on the wood of his door. They both froze and then Jace got slowly to his feet, disappearing from view as he walked slowly towards the door. Isabelle closed her eyes, trying to banish the sudden frozen, almost terrified look that had morphed Jace's features just as he left the cubby house.

There was the sound of a door opening, of a sharp intake of breath and then,

'Hello, Clary.'

* * *

><p><em>Hahahaha, a cliffie! I know, I'm an evil so and so :P<em>

_Next chapter is the last chapter!_

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I actually really liked writing it with Simon's and Isabelle's point of view. And i really like the Let's Dance To Joy Division. You should check it out. It's fantastic :P_

_I also hope you liked the first half with Jace and Clary. I know I did :D_

_Reviews = excitement-y-ness_

_Blue :)_

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments Series or the song Let's Dance To Joy Division by the Wombats.**


	10. Chapter 10

I practically flew down the stairs, out of my brownstone and onto the sweltering New York streets. Summer had come quickly, the dense, humid air making my red hair explode in a ball of red frizz. I tried calling for a taxi, but it was like the Fates were working against me. After bouncing impatiently on the balls of my feet for a few, indecisive seconds, I took off down the street in the direction of Jace's apartment.

_I love you I love you I love you_. The words were a mantra in my head.

My tears were still drying on my cheeks by the time I reached Jace's building. I rang the bell and Dorothea let me up. I took the stairs two at a time, huffing and puffing. Dorothea let me into the apartment silently, her eyes appraising my frazzled appearance.

_I love you I love you I love you_.

I made my way to his bedroom door, taking time to collect myself before I knocked. I attempted to smooth down my hair a little and straighten my crumpled and sweaty clothes. I suddenly wished I had at least bothered to put on a semi-decent shirt, instead of the old, holey BATMAN shirt that I used as a pyjama top. At least I put some clean jeans on.

_I love you I love you I love you_.

Slowly, I raised my fist and knocked firmly on the door. I think I stopped breathing in the ten seconds it took for the door to open and Jace's face to stare at me from the doorway.

His eyes widened fractionally in surprise when he saw me, before settling back into the same blank coldness I had witnessed yesterday. As my eyes took him in, I couldn't help the sharp intake of breath. He was still wearing the same, paint splattered clothes of yesterday and the paint was still covering his face and hair and arms.

_I love you I love you I love_ –

'Hello, Clary.'

His voice crashed down around my ears, cold, unfeeling, dead, whatever you want to call it. My heart seemed to shrivel up inside my chest, all half-formed hopes crumbling into oblivion. Because this was the voice he spoke to people like Jonathan Morgenstern with.

People he hated.

I stared at him, wide eyed, my chest barely moving. I suddenly became painfully aware of the fact that my eyes were red and puffy, my cheeks stained with dried tears. And then Isabelle came up behind him, flashing me a brilliant smile.

'Hey, Clary,' she gushed, shoving Jace out of the way and giving me a quick hug as she wandered on down the hall. I barely moved, my mind blank.

I stared at Jace, who was leaning against his doorframe, stony and dark and unreachable. I don't really know how he was able to look so cold and unfeeling when he was covered from head to foot in paint, but he managed.

'You look terrible,' he stated when I didn't speak. His words cut into me with their drawling sharpness and before I could stop myself I said,

'Oh yes, because you look like the freaking cover of a magazine at the moment, right?'

Jace's eyes flashed, whether in amusement or contempt or both I wasn't sure.

'What do you want, Clarissa?' He asked in a bored tone. I couldn't help but wince when he said my full name and he saw. Of course he bloody well saw, the bastard noticed everything.

'I wanted…' my voice seemed to shrivel up in my throat. I cleared my throat. 'Can I come in?'

Jace shrugged away from the doorway and I stepped inside, this time managing to not let out a gasp. The room was in the exact same position it had been in last night, only now the curtains were closed, the lamps making an artificial light. Music played and I realised it was the same song over and over.

'…_let's dance to Joy Division and celebrate the irony…'_

'Jace…' I began when I turned to look at him, but once again my words caught in my throat under his stony gaze.

'What?' He prompted, almost mockingly.

'I was listening to this before,' I blurted, suddenly unable to stop talking. 'I thought it would work, but it didn't.'

Jace raise a dark pink eyebrow, a small smirk (not a smile) twisting his lips.

'What did you think would work, Clarissa?'

Again with the name.

I couldn't hold his gaze any longer. 'It's what the Wombats said. Dance to Joy Division, right? Let yourself forget the heartbreak, I s'pose. It didn't work.'

Something flittered through Jace's eyes when I said that, something that lightened the deadened look and made him look, well, like him again.

'Because Simon's with Isabelle?' He said, a little bit of hope underlying his cynical tone. I swallowed. Now or never.

'No,' I said, taking a single step towards him. He didn't speak, his gold eyes trained on mine. 'Because the boy who loves me thinks that I don't love him back. Do you know how much of a horrible person that makes me feel? To think that I might have broken the heart of the boy I love, because I had verbal constipation and couldn't speak for the life of me. It's the worst feeling in the world, Jace, like your heart is twisting inside your chest, blaming you with every beat.'

With every word, it was like the hard wall he had constructed around himself crumbled, until it was Jace that I was seeing, and not some blank wall. His gold eyes drilled into me, looking for any chance of a lie. And then a smile, a real, shining, beautiful smile lit his paint covered face and I was running towards him or he was running towards me but suddenly I was caught in his arms and pressing my lips against his. For a moment, everything hung in a dizzying kind of bliss. Jace's arms lifted me almost off the ground, crushing me against his chest so I could feel his heart pounding beneath mine. The world spun, my heart pounded and my body was filled from head to toe with the electrifying warmth that only Jace could offer.

When we pulled apart for air, I pressed my forehead against his, gasping a little for breath. I moved my hands from where they gripped his shirt (I didn't even remember moving them) to cup his face. Looking him straight in the eyes, I said what I should have said yesterday.

'I love you, Jace Wayland.'

I felt his gasp, rather than heard it and he brushed his lips softly across mine once again.

He ran his fingers tenderly across my cheeks, soft kisses following their trail. He knew I had been crying; I could feel it in his touch, in the way his kisses were almost apologetic. I could feel his lips murmuring against my skin. When they reached my ear, I finally understood what it was he was saying.

'I love you too, Clary. _I love you I love you I love you_.'

O.o

I've always wondered about how people fall in love. I mean, I was in love with Isabelle for nearly five years and then along came Miss Clarissa-goes-by-Clary, who could barely stand to be near me and turned everything I thought I knew upside down. When she turned up in my house that day, sweaty and hot and teary eyed I had thought I was delirious.

And when she had said she loved me, I was positive.

Now, Clary and I were lying under the stars, T. Rex playing softly in the background.

'They're so beautiful,' she whispered, reaching up a finger to trace patterns through the stars.

'So beautiful,' I agreed, but I wasn't looking at the stars. She turned her face to look at me, a wonderful, dazzling smile curving her lips. I leaned forward and brushed my lips across her, revelling in the shock of warmth that accompanied the touch. It was New Years Eve, and the fireworks were starting. The boom and crackle as they shot through the night sky had an almost dizzying effect on me, my lips still softly pressed against Clary's.

We pulled apart and she nestled against my chest, my arms looped around her. We were lucky her mother had let her out tonight to be with me. Once Jocelyn found out we were together (really together, not faking) she suddenly became less lenient with having Clary come to my house.

'What's your New Year's resolution?' Clary asked me, her hair tickling my chin as she tilted her head up to gaze at the fireworks.

I thought about it for a moment, pressing my mouth against the top of her head.

'Probably to get you to be a bit tidier. It's like whenever you're here, my room magically becomes a bomb-site.'

She laughed, her fingers threading through mine.

'Fair enough,' she replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice. 'Although I wouldn't count on you succeeding.'

'And what's yours?'

'To have better time management skills.'

I laughed at that, and she joined in.

She sighed and turned her chin so she could look up at me, the back of her head now resting against my shoulder.

'I love you,' she said softly, so softly I almost didn't catch it.

I smiled down at her, taking in her fire red hair and soft, freckled skin and forest green eyes. I held in my arms a girl I never wanted to let go of, a girl who was flawed in the most perfect of ways, a girl whose laugh made my heart pound and made my palms sweat.

I held in my arms a girl who loved me.

And it was a feeling I would never get used to, never get bored of, never throw away.

'I love you too, Clary.'

**The End**

* * *

><p><em>Ta da! I hope you guys all loved this, I really do! It's the first multi-chapter story I have completed and I am very proud of myself :)<em>

_I just wanted to say thank you to every single person who has reviewed this story, or favourited it, or alerted it, or just read it! You are all absolutely fabulous people and I love you all very much :)_

_Love,_

_Blue :)_

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments Series...gosh...**


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